Suspending Belief
by imsanehonest
Summary: The image of the Doctor's frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers. But not this time. Rose was about to be eaten. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Suspending Belief  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. -sniff-  
**Spoilers**: Erm. Pre-"Doomsday" season two.  
**Summary**: _The sight of the Doctor's pout was a powerful force, and the image of his frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers. But not this time. She was about to be _eaten_. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable._  
**Author's Notes**: I didn't mean to write this. Really, I didn't. These guys just won't leave me be. -grin- Any and all concrit is most welcome, as I've still got no beta, no Britishness, and am still very very new. Thank you all for your time!

--

**Part One**

--

Rose had learned that the biggest trouble with traveling about time and space with aliens was their complete disregard of social niceties. Or at least that seemed to be the biggest issue while traveling about with this particular alien.

Currently, she was experiencing one of the many downsides to the Doctor's rather selective well-mannered tendencies. It wasn't that he was incapable of being polite, just that he was scrupulous about who deserved this civility. Unfortunately, most alien species didn't quite understand this discriminating process when they were met with the foul end of it.

And so it came about that Rose Tyler was hanging from a suspended wooden pole by her arms and legs in preparation for her eventual roasting.

Rose was far from pleased. Adding to her discomfort were the facts that her hair was dragging on the disgusting dungeon floor, her blood was rushing to her head and her imminent death was fast approaching on the horizon in the form of a race of fat orange creatures who found the flesh of higher life forms the most desirable throughout the universe.

No, Rose was not pleased at all.

And it was entirely the Doctor's fault.

"Did you really need to call them primitive cellulites?"

The Doctor spared her a glance as he tugged on the chain attached to his wrists, hanging him from the rafters of their dank cell. "Need is such a strange concept," he said, tilting his head contemplatively. "Does the bird need to sing? Do the children need to play?"

"Not if singing and playing results in their imprisonment and impending deaths, no," Rose responded darkly, jerking at her own bonds, the gooey but firm shackles effectively binding her wrists and ankles together. She shot the Doctor a severe look, the effect of which was likely destroyed by her, what would have been considered in any other situation, laughable position. "I don't think so."

He shrugged helplessly. "I can't help it, Rose. The truth must be told. Really, I'm doing a great service to the powers of the universe. Truth isn't supposed to be restrained or held back. It must be shouted from the heavens for the benefit of all. Think of the great strides this society will be able to take now that they're aware of their own disabilities? I just put this entire species on the path to decent table manners." He gave a definitive nod, as if he was trying to reassure himself as much as her. "Really, that's all I'm doing. Inspiring decency in others. After all, Rose, I'm a very decent bloke. It's in my nature."

"Well if it is your 'nature' to insult everything you come across that doesn't instantly suit your fancy, then I think it would do best to stop with your particular brand of decency. Your spewing of uncomplimentary, however well intending, remarks is going to get us killed in about, oh, forty minutes."

The Doctor looked insulted. "If they took my advice the wrong way that's a fault on their part, not on mine."

"You were insulting to the high nobility of Laxacorvatalla!" she snapped. "You were obnoxious, imposing, haughty, lacking all forms of tact, rude and… and…" She searched for words that would reach him, something truly offensive so that she could be certain that he was listening. "And you're still not ginger!"

The Doctor grumbled, shifting his feet and staring at his trainers. "Rub it in why don't you."

Rose quickly pushed down all feelings of guilt. The sight of the Doctor's pout was a powerful force, and the image of his frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers.

But not this time.

She was about to be _eaten_. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable.

"Given the circumstances I think I have the right! I'm strung up here like a calf waiting for the slaughter because you couldn't keep your trap shut!"

He looked up at her, glaring. "You were thinking they were filthy murderous sacks of lard too!"

"But I wasn't stupid enough to say it, was I?"

"I wasn't stupid," the Doctor muttered, looking at the floor again. "Misguided, perhaps. Shortsighted, without question. Stupid though, that's a needless and completely false accusation." He sent her a wide grin. "We both know I'm brilliant."

She tore her gaze away from his smile, knowing what his grin could do to her. "I'm beginning to have my doubts."

There was a small, accusing silence.

"Is your faith in me that shaken?"

Rose glanced back at him at the hurt in his tone, noticed the pained expression in his eyes, the overt concern in his gaze.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Of course," she said without hesitation. She sent him a smile. "Always."

Her grin was met with one of his own.

Rose did trust the Doctor, unquestioningly, even when her common sense told her she shouldn't. He had comforting effect, managed to convey a soothing reassurance that everything would be all right, even when they both knew that it wouldn't. All she needed was to look at his smiling face, see him bouncing around the console of the TARDIS, watch him dishevel his wild hair in excitement or bring the sonic screwdriver thoughtfully to his mouth, to feel the security of a home that was millions of miles, years, away. In the midst of danger he had the ability to make her feel safe, as if it only took her hand clasped in his to make all threats, uncertainties and hazards vanish.

Logically, she knew it didn't make any sense. She hadn't been safe since she ran on board the TARDIS those two-odd years ago, and as brilliant as the Doctor was, he couldn't save her from all of the perils of the universe, despite how protected he made her feel.

Of course that was another matter all together.

How the Doctor made her feel.

Not that it was a topic of vast significance. After all, he was a 900 year-old alien, the last of his kind, and she was a twenty year-old shopgirl from London. One didn't have to be a genius to discover the improbabilities in the equation.

Ultimately, Rose decided, her feelings were not a matter that warranted a great deal of thinking upon, especially not given the current state of affairs. At present, there were far more pressing issues to deal with. Like how to avoid becoming the centerpiece at diner.

Shaking herself, Rose craned her neck to look at the Doctor once more. "I trust you, but if you'd like me to think of you as clever again you'd best get us out of here. Soon. I don't want to be the afternoon snack of the Laxacorvatallanites, thanks."

"Laxacorvatallaions," the Doctor corrected cheerfully.

Rose gave her head a small shake. "Whatever. The point is that it's high time you came up with an escape plan, Doctor."

"Right. Escape. I can do that." He nodded his head firmly. "I'm good with escapes. All the running and hopping, I'm the master of that." He eyed his sticky restraints and frowned. "Of course, I'm dangling from the ceiling, so the running and hopping might be a bit difficult, which could make escaping rather troublesome as well…"

Rose resisted the urge to wince at his less than reassuring words.

The Doctor obviously noticed her flinch, quickly ridding himself of his discouraged tone. "Well, I like challenges." He gave a small cough and perked up considerably. "On to business then!"

Since beginning her adventures with the Doctor, her companion had tried to impress upon her the values of the infinite suspension of belief. Rules were made to be broken, improbabilities were meant to be defied and the impossible was perfectly viable in the right set of circumstances. And try as she might to take part in this grand ideology, Rose still found herself, during desperate times, grounded to the hard facts of reality.

A half-hour after the Doctor's initial proclamation, Rose was well aware that she was experiencing just such a time. There was only a matter of minutes left before the Laxacorvatallaions came for them and the Doctor hadn't torn his fierce stare from his restraints, no obvious progress having been made for his efforts, despite the intensity of his gaze.

"Doctor, you won't intimidate the chains into falling off."

His eyes remained locked on the shackles, glaring at them. "We don't know that."

She let out a small smile despite herself.

He had that effect on her; able to make her happy even when faced with her impending death. Which wasn't something she could say about most blokes. She got the impression that it had to mean something significant.

"We're doomed, aren't we?"

The Doctor unfocused his stare from his bindings and turned his attention to her. "Doomed?" He scoffed. "No! I wouldn't say 'doomed.' We're…" He gnawed on a lip in consideration, face lighting up after several moments. "Disaster prone. In an unfortunate and possibly life-ending situation. We're having a small issue disembarking from this latest great adventure. We're-"

She interrupted him, a grave look on her face. "Doctor."

He looked at her anxiously, no doubt noting her serious expression as he heaved a sigh. "I don't know what to do, Rose." He went limp in his bonds, head hanging dejectedly between his arms. "I'm so sorry."

She felt her heart drop in her chest. That phrase, coming from the Doctor, was not to be taken lightly. It implied more than a difficult situation; it implied helplessness and a lack of hope. It meant the end.

And Rose wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

She shook her head adamantly, willing him to look at her. "None of that, Doctor."

He didn't appear to hear her, shoulders remaining slumped and gaze downcast. "I did this, I brought you here. I'm responsible for what's going to happen." He raised his face to look at her, eyes sad. "For killing you."

Rose frowned, making a move to speak only to be cut-off.

"No, Rose. I never should have taken you with me. Never should have asked you to stay at Christmas. You would be at home now with your beans and chips if I hadn't come back for you, if I had just left well enough alone." His stare was filled with remorse as he caught her eyes in his own. "You'd be with your mum, working in a shop somewhere, a million miles away from these primitive cellulites and safe." His eyes were still locked to hers, burning through her. "I'm so sorry for taking that, your life, away from you."

There was silence for several moments as they stared at one another, neither willing to break the intensity.

Until Rose thought it best to set the Doctor to rights.

"No."

His brow furrowed. "What was that?"

"No," she repeated resolutely.

The Doctor eyed her curiously.

"I told you once that I wouldn't have traded my time with you for the world. I meant it then and I still mean it now." She adopted a stern tone. "You aren't allowed to take this time away from me, aren't allowed to act as if it shouldn't have happened." She stared at him severely. "You've got that, Doctor?"

He lost the confused expression, instead gazing at her with what might have been admiration.

"It's not your right, it's mine, and if I had to do it all over again I'd still want to end up right back here, with you, tied to this damn pole and about to be desert for a bunch of filthy murderous sacks of lard." She grinned widely. "So shut it, right?"

The Doctor returned her smile, looking at her with wonder. "I'm so glad I met you."

Rose beamed back, still dangling from the pole, prepared to be carted away to her death, and yet overjoyed just to be around this man, the last of the Time Lords. This alien who had shown her a better life than she had ever dared to imagine.

She would die a thousand deaths so long as it meant she had died having known him.

"Me too."

He glanced up at the ceiling, giving his chains a futile tug before looking helplessly back to her, something strange and unfamiliar in his gaze. "I just wish that it didn't have to end this way."

Rose frowned. "In what way, Doctor?"

In that instant two hulking orange globs of flesh with fat stubs for legs and long, thin arms (Laxacorvatallaions) entered the cell, making their way to Rose's pole.

"No! Rose!" the Doctor yelled, renewing his struggle against his shackles. "Get your hands off of her!"

The two aliens laughed, the orangeier of the two smirking as he said, "Sure, we'll get our hands off her. At least until we've broiled the syrupiness out of her." He sneered. "Then she'll be too delicious to resist."

The Doctor gave another violent jerk to the bonds, rage overtaking his every feature.

Rose's eyes widened in alarm and concern. He couldn't be angry. The Doctor never thought as clearly when distracted, and if he was to have any hope of escape he needed to focus all of his attentions on getting himself free, not on plotting revenge.

"Doctor!"

He turned to her, expression softening as it rested on her face.

"It's all right," she said, glancing around in surprise when the aliens grabbed either end of her pole.

And suddenly she was being moved, the exit was fast approaching and she found she had too little time to say all that needed to be said.

She quickly returned her attention back to the Doctor, her eyes clinging to the sight of him. "Not for the world, Doctor!" she yelled as they left the cell. "Not for any of them!"

With that one of her captors slammed the door shut, ending the connection between Rose and her Doctor, before continuing down the long hallway. And it was only then, with cold hard steel separating them and the distance between swiftly growing, that Rose was afraid.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Suspending Belief  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. -sniff-  
**Spoilers**: Various references to seasons one and two, pre-"Doomsday." Specifically, "The Girl in the Fireplace."  
**Summary**: _Rose quickly pushed down all feelings of guilt. The sight of the Doctor's pout was a powerful force, and the image of his frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers. But not this time. She was about to be _eaten_. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable._  
**Author's Notes**: Still no beta (etc.), and all mistakes are mine. Concrit is always welcomed and loved. As are cookies, since we're on the subject of welcomed and loved things. Yumm… cookies. -zones out- Erm, I mean, thank you all for your time!

--

**Part Two**

--

It wasn't the first time that Rose had been sent off to her death, although it was, perhaps, the least dignified.

After all, it was a true challenge to maintain an air of self-respect while hanging upside-down from a roasting pole, all the while being forced to view the bum of one of your alien captors in transit to the broiler.

Its (his?) merry chuckling wasn't aiding matters, and although she might have been capable of laughing the situation off, given a few years time and some strong Irish tea (provided, of course, that she was _alive_ in a few minutes time, much less years), currently she found her situation more than a little petrifying.

The situation being imprisonment and eventual consumption by the Laxacorvatallaions, an alien race that considered intelligent life an exotic delicacy and that did not take kindly to comments of a less than gracious nature.

Really, Rose should have anticipated this outcome from the outset. Traveling with the Doctor practically guaranteed that someone would be insulted along the way, and while visiting a race as touchy as the Laxacorvatallaions, that was a death sentence waiting to happen.

"Should be a good meal," the jailor providing her with the less than pleasing view remarked. "This one for now, the Time Lord as a specialty after."

Rose took a large breath and stilled her inner panic. There would be no dessert for this lot, not if the Doctor escaped. Even if she died, Rose could take comfort in the fact that the Doctor would live on.

If he got his wits about him, that was. And that was a rather big 'if'. There was also the matter of her own death, which would also be a big 'if,' were she given anything to say about it.

She took another calming breath.

Rose Tyler was not the sort to meekly accept death when it was dealt to her. Especially when it was dealt to her in the form of digestion.

"Time Lord?" Her other captor whistled in appreciation. "Aren't they extinct?"

Rose examined her surroundings, noting the steel, Spartan, hallways, the lack of decorations or other forms of adornment, the dull shine on the floors, as if they had been tread upon often for many years.

"Apparently he's the last."

An anthropologist would have had a grand time inspecting the space in contrast to the ornate entrance hall that she and the Doctor had arrived in, no doubt reveling in the class distinctions. Rose, however, simply found herself painfully discouraged. What good was Spartan to her? She needed a sharp decorative sword she could cut her bonds with, a large and bulking statue with which she could crush her wardens.

Rose needed something useful.

Instead, she got Spartan.

Rose determined that she had no luck whatsoever.

"Shame," the alien behind her said. "Shouldn't we try to preserve him? For breeding purposes?"

"Eh, not prone to natural reproduction, the Gallifreyans."

Rose couldn't resist halting her observations to raise a speculative eyebrow at that. _Tell that to the Madame De Pompadour_, she thought with a bit more vehemence than was perhaps warranted. The Doctor certainly hadn't been snogging Reinette purely for scientific exploration.

Not that she was jealous, mind. Rose didn't get jealous, not over the Doctor. Besides, what good could her jealousy amount to? Reinette was everything Rose wished she could be, everything the Doctor deserved out of a fellow traveler. Reinette had been a woman of epic proportions, one truly worthy of his companionship.

Rose shook herself.

It didn't matter now in any case. She had to make sure she lived through the night before she tackled her feelings of inadequacy.

Prioritizing really did become essential when faced with demise.

"Besides, they'd be half-breeds. Not as smart, not as tasty, not as valuable to the universe," the first Laxacorvatallaion continued.

"Right, well. Still do feel a bit guilty."

Rose tugged her wrists and ankles, sensing no slacking of her chains.

The form in front of her shrugged. "His own fault for speaking out of turn with the nobles."

"Course. And what about this one, then?"

She stopped with her yanking, nervous now that she was the topic of conversation.

"A neo-human of some sort, his cohort."

"Crime?"

"Being his cohort?"

There was a small sigh from the alien behind her. "Doesn't seem fair, that."

Rather annoyed at being talked about as if she wasn't there, Rose decided it was time she chimed in. "You don't have to eat me, you know," she said dryly.

The Laxacorvatallaion in front of her turned to face her, his fat body straining with the effort of twisting in such an unnatural fashion. "It's not a matter of _having_ to do anything," it said irritably. "The nobles _want_ to eat you." His oversized mouth contorted into a smirk. "Two, very different, things." With that he faced ahead once more, long, thin, arms tightening themselves around the pole.

"It's nothing personal, you know."

Rose craned her neck to look at the other Laxacorvatallaion, this one smiling kindly to her as they continued down the hall.

"You broke the law and you must be punished." He shrugged. "This way works just as well as another, and the nobles get a good meal to boot. A win-win situation for everyone." He frowned. "Except for you, of course."

"But I didn't do anything!" Rose exclaimed. "Neither did the Doctor!" She sighed irritably. "Accepting a bit of constructive criticism can be beneficial, every now and then."

"Sure, it can be," the first alien said sarcastically. "But why bother with it if you don't have to?" He shot her a look from the corner of one of his very large eyes. "The nobles don't have to, and they become quite cross when someone attempts to deny them of that right." Her captors slowed to a stop. "Your friend did that, and now you both will suffer for it."

The alien speaking knocked on the small door that appeared to be their destination, walking in without waiting for a response.

The Laxacorvatallaion behind her gave a small cough before shouting, "Maz, is the broiler ready yet?" into the room.

Rose glanced around said room, attempting to squint through the steam to gather some notion of where she was. Pots, pans, steam from boiling water.

She had been taken to the kitchen.

Fantastic.

"You've got to wait another ten," a disembodied voice said through the haze.

"Of course we do," the first, far more irritable, Laxacorvatallaion muttered. "Well can we leave the meat here?"

"Sure, I guess," the voice said hesitantly.

Without warning both of Rose's captors unceremoniously dropped her, the second alien snagging away the pole before they both hobbled out of the kitchen as quickly as their stubby legs could carry them.

Rose was left on the floor, blinking repeatedly in confusion at her abrupt release. Of course, she still had her gooey restraints preventing her from bounding away in any helpful fashion, but she wasn't hanging from the pole any more. All and all, she was quite pleased with the latest development. Baby-steps.

Until, that is, she heard the sound of something slowly coming nearer.

Images of a fierce, large and angry Laxacorvatallaion came to mind, and Rose did her best to scramble to her feet, awkwardly trying to gain balance.

A form slowly began to form amidst the steam, a form that Rose studiously ignored as she pushed herself next to a wall, attempting to lean against it for support.

"If you'd just give me a few more minutes you can help me pop it in-"

Rose winced as the footsteps stopped suddenly, warily glancing up at her executioner.

"Wonderful," a scrawny middle-aged man (a _human_ man) with wire-rimmed glasses muttered, a wooden spoon clenched irritably in his hand. "You aren't dead yet."

--

Meanwhile, the Doctor was talking to himself inside his cell.

"'Let's go somewhere exotic,' she says. 'It'll be fun,' she says. 'Something new,' she says." He glared up at the rafters. "Well now we see where the exotic, fun and new lead with me, don't we?"

The Doctor wasn't entirely sure who he was yelling at, but he had to admit that he did feel a bit better after the fact.

Truthfully, he was more than a little upset. He hadn't meant for them to end up here, really he hadn't. But in recent years the TARDIS had taken on a mind of her own, determined to shove her captain into more perilous situations (and more often), than even he was used to. So instead of arriving to the Laxacorvatallaion planet of Ellricion in the 52nd century, during its Golden Age, they had arrived in the 51st, only a few decades off from its long and bloody revolution.

Of course, the Doctor hadn't known this upon arriving in the dining room, and as such the sight of slaughter had caught him a bit off guard, causing him to say things that, although perfectly honest, were perhaps not the most diplomatic things to mention during the time period.

Oops.

Ultimately, the miscalculation wasn't in the least bit acceptable, and the Doctor would be certain to give the TARDIS a piece of his mind once he and Rose were back on board.

The last bit was key. Because he _was_ getting Rose back, there was no questioning that.

With that thought he gave his wrists another violent wrench, hoping to break his bindings, pull down the ceiling or tear off his hands. Any option would do, although the last would be a bit untidy. Frankly, it would probably be best to avoid that one, if at all possible, but if it could save Rose the Doctor would happily rid himself of all his limbs. She was far more precious to him than mere flesh.

Well, his flesh anyway. Hers was rather nice, actually. All creamy and smooth and tempting. It always astounded him, whenever he had the chance to feel it. Humans were such delicate creatures, so bound to their skin, so dependant on it. The Doctor could change his, could morph and replace it, but humans, Rose. She was stuck with hers. Trapped in the confines of such a breakable organ, such a beautiful prison.

Well, beautiful for humans, at least.

Now that he was separated from her, that he faced the real threat of losing Rose, he realized that he hadn't touched that skin nearly enough. Why hadn't he done that? It was such a marvelous, if rudimentary, sense, that of touch. He had let his go under appreciated for far too long, abused it horribly, when there was a subject with such grand potential at his disposal.

What would it feel like, to run a hand through Rose Tyler's hair? To trace a finger over her spine? To caress the contours of her face? It was a wonder he hadn't memorized every inch of her when he had the opportunity to do so.

But, in the next breath, he acknowledged why he hadn't. It was the same reason why he never should have brought her here, the valiant child from Earth.

Because he was dangerous, because death followed him like a dark cloud and because around him, no one was safe.

But Rose knew that. And for all she had seen, she didn't seem to mind the danger, the death and destruction. She took it all knowingly, the hazards, loss and devastation, just to be with him. To give him a hand to hold as he journeyed around the universe.

And what had the Doctor done with the precious gift she had given him? To this priceless offering she had made? He'd neglected it, disregarded it. He had tried to give it back to her, to discount its significance.

The Doctor smiled broadly just thinking about how she had challenged him, how she hadn't allowed him to get away with his casual dismissal.

That was what he loved about her, his Rose.

For an instant the Doctor felt both of his hearts stop beating as his mind threw up a flashing neon sign.

Love?

Although by no stretch of the imagination typical, the Doctor was still Gallifreyan. Love wasn't something that the Time Lords should know of, wasn't something he should be allowed to feel, especially not for Rose.

The Doctor had learned that he had a tendency to lose the things he loved.

And he wasn't going to lose Rose Tyler.

So, he supposed, he mustn't love her.

Simple enough, really.

That matter settled (but not really settled at all), and grasping for an excuse to free himself of his own thoughts, the Doctor continued to concoct the brilliant escape he had been working on for the past hour or so.

It really would be a very easy matter. Before being brought to the dungeon, the Doctor had, very craftily, hidden the sonic screwdriver in his right sock. Laxacorvatallaions, having no socks themselves due to their very large and tough soles (much like elephants, some of the most fascinating creatures in the universe, by the Doctor's standards), obviously felt no need to search through that particular article of clothing. More likely than not the Laxacorvatallaions thought them to be parts of skin rather than excessive adornments to keep feet comfortable.

The point being, the Doctor had the sonic screwdriver. So, once his arms were free, getting out of the cell would be a very simple task indeed.

The trouble was getting his arms free. Unfortunately, so far his best plan had been amputation by violent wrenching, an arrangement that would be, ultimately, counterproductive. After all, how is one supposed to use a sonic screwdriver without hands?

The biggest issue was, obviously, that the Doctor didn't have enough information. He hadn't brushed up on his Lacacorvatallaion history in at least a century, and as such was having a mighty hard time knowing what, exactly, he could use against them.

What did the Doctor know about this race?

On a basic level, they were large and orange, with stubby legs and painfully thin arms. Huge eyes, big mouths, relatively small heads in comparison to all of their other, oversized features.

They were also on the brink of a revolution, although he doubted that the populace at large was aware of it yet.

The Doctor frowned, thinking, attempting to remember what exactly had brought about the revolution to begin with. Something about lower-class rights, perhaps? That was right. The nobility, an imbalance of power and old, cruel, out-of-date traditions.

The Doctor snorted. Not that any of the Laxacorvatallaions he had seen had appeared to be particularly distraught over those archaic customs. Broiling a human for supper, honestly. No manners whatsoever, really.

Suddenly, a thought struck the Doctor.

Excited, he stood up straight, leaning forward and giving his shackles a quick lick.

The Doctor's eyes lit up.

Beautiful.

--

A small, fidgety man with dark hair that was rapidly balding, Maz was a neo-human from 51st century Earth. Tracing his heritage to trees, Balboon and some race from one of Jupiter's moons, Maz had decided to explore the universe in his youth in order to investigate all the complexities of his family history. Along the way he had run into the Laxacorvatallaions, met a lady Laxacorvatallaion called Shelatalion and fallen in love. (Rose did her best to keep an open-mind about… dancing. The 51st century was, after all, a very different place.) Now he lived on her planet, working for minimum wage as a cook to the nobility.

"The typical Laxacorvatalla is perfectly polite and functional within society," he explained to Rose as he poured some seasoning into a large pot. "It's only the rich ones who are the…" He paused, turning to her. "What did your friend call them?"

"Primitive cellulites and filthy murderous sacks of lard," Rose offered dully from her spot on the floor, chains still firmly secured around her limbs and all hope for escape quickly fading.

Maz, although not appearing to be terribly fierce, did have a multitude of knives at his disposal, knives that he had quickly reassured her that he was completely capable of using should she make him do so. His livelihood, after all, depended on her preparation.

"Right." Maz pushed his falling glasses back up the bridge of his nose, sending her a confounded expression. "Why did he say that, again?"

Rose wanted to say, _Because he has the mental maturity of a five-year-old, despite 900 years of experience._ Instead, possibly giving the Doctor more credit than he deserved, Rose waved her hands dismissively. "They were killing some sort of animal on the dinner table when we came in."

"Oh, right, the marvilinion." Maz turned back to the pot, stirring the substance inside and blushing shamefully. "It, er. It wasn't exactly an animal."

Rose frowned. "It was intelligent?"

Maz gave a quick nod, scampering to some shelves and shaking a spice into the concoction.

"That explains why he was so angry…" The Doctor had never taken kindly to the abuse of the innocent and that alone would have been enough to upset him. But to kill a creature with a complex consciousness in cold blood... It was little wonder the Time Lord had been sent into a rage.

Maz gave the pot another stir. "It's only the nobility who do that, too." He looked up at her quickly. "The eating of higher life forms, that is."

"Well that's reassuring, I suppose." Rose sighed helplessly, locking her gaze with the floor. "At least I'm a high-class meal."

"I _am_ sorry about the whole eating you thing." Maz said earnestly. "But their laws are very strict regarding etiquette while conversing with the nobles."

"We didn't hurt anyone, didn't cause any harm."

Maz snorted. "You insulted the aristocracy of Laxacorvatalla." He sent her a stern look. "That's harm enough."

"A few bruised egos-"

"A few bruised egos of highly placed officials can cause a lot of trouble for the everyday Laxacorvatallaion." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Trust me, Shela makes sure I'm aware of it. Especially when said officials have an intelligence dampened by generations of inbreeding and no concept of 'constructive criticism.'"

Rose's brow furrowed. "So are you saying they're stupid?"

"Between you and me?" Maz leaned closer to her, lowering his voice. "A bunch of overgrown toddlers."

"Then why are they running the planet?"

Maz shrugged. "Why not? Things are going well enough. They've been trained for ruling since infancy and although most of the tasks they perform are mundane, social obligations and the ilk, they are necessary." He fiddled with the control to the large hot-pad that took up a large portion of the floor, turning up the heat under the pot. "The planet is healthy, the economy is thriving and the people happy when the nobility are properly indulged." He dipped his spoon into the substance he was cooking, removing a portion of the odd, green, liquid. "It's the only life they've ever known, and the only problems arise when outsiders come in and try to shake things up." He blew on the liquid briefly before tasting it, making an odd face as he swallowed.

"The only problems?" Rose asked, eyebrow raised. "I'm about to die because the Laxacorvatallaions who run this planet are unintelligent, overly sensitive and have been given the power over life and death." She sent him a critical look. "Things are far from going 'well-enough,' I should think."

He ran back over to his spice shelves, this time tossing several different seasonings into the mix. "Oh, well there are flaws, but who am I to criticize?"

Rose blinked. "You live here."

"I'm a neo-human," he corrected, a sardonic expression on his face. He uncapped a particular spice, dumping the whole bottle into the brew before tossing the empty container over his shoulder. "My opinion doesn't count for much."

She eyed the pot with growing unease. "But you're a citizen of this planet. Shouldn't it count?"

He flicked his spoon in the pan once more. "Wouldn't matter even if it did." He returned his gaze to her. "No one wants to change things, Rose."

"But do they need to?" she challenged.

"It's not my place-"

She swiftly interrupted him. "How long have you been here, Maz?"

"Sixty years." He took another sample of the soup, smiling in satisfaction after the taste.

Rose's eyes widened in disbelief. "Sixty?"

"Yes." Maz looked at her curiously. "Something wrong?"

She shook her head, making a mental note to question Jack on his age, should she ever see him again. How long did humans end up living, anyway?

"Don't you think you've made it your place, after all of this time?" she demanded. "Don't you think it's your obligation to change things? To make them better?"

"I'm just one person, Rose, and a very ordinary one at that." Maz said, placing the spoon back in the pot. "I don't have the power to change anything." He locked his gaze with hers. "And if anyone thinks I can, they're being foolish."

Rose stared at him, disappointed. Maz wasn't a bad man, not really. She even suspected that he had the potential to be a good one, a great one even, if he really wanted it. But Rose wasn't skilled at inspiring greatness in others, despite her best attempts. She needed the Doctor for that and he, unfortunately, was dangling in a cell somewhere, completely useless to her.

Rose resisted the urge to grumble. Fat lot of good suspending belief did.

"The soup's ready."

She gulped.

Maz turned off the heat to the burner before facing her abruptly. Sweat had started to form on his brow as he took a deep breath. He grabbed a knife from one of his shelves. "Enough of your jabbering."

Rose quickly blundered to her feet, backing away from the man, terror slowly building.

And it was a sad day indeed when Rose felt anything akin to terror in association to a man like Maz.

"You don't have to do this, Maz."

He wiped at his forehead with his sleeve, shaking his head. "I've got Shela at home and a baby on the way, Rose." He sent her a sorrowful glance. "I'm sorry."

He had backed her into a corner, Rose closing her eyes and attempting to hide herself behind the shelves on her left.

Wait. The shelves on her left? Rose opened one of her eyes, seeing a large collection of silverware gracing the wall.

But by that point Maz already had the knife overhead.

"Wait!"

Maz flinched, unclenching his eyes and nearly dropping the knife that he was holding shakily in his hand. "Wha-What is it?"

"Are you sure you want to stab me?"

Maz frowned. "What?"

"To kill me. Are you sure you want to stab me?"

"Um." Maz looked down at the knife and then back up at her, uncertainty apparent on every feature. "Yes?"

"Won't that make me lose some of the flavor, if all my blood's gone before you start cooking? Plus it's messy. Doesn't seem terribly practical."

Rose had no idea what she was saying. Fortunately, Maz appeared to be in a state of panic equal to her own.

So, with any luck, what she said wouldn't matter so much.

"Well," Maz studied the knife in the palm of his hand intently. "I suppose you're right, now that you mention it." He glanced at her, hopefully. "What do you suggest?"

"That mallet, over there." She gestured towards it. "On the counter. If you're careful it'll be much cleaner, and I won't lose my richness."

"Right. Of course." He turned around, walking over to the counter and grabbing the mallet she had indicated.

Rose, meanwhile, snagged a large, heavy, serving tray from the shelf.

Maz smiled cheerfully as he faced Rose again. "Thank you so-"

The smile made her feel especially guilty for slamming the tray over his head the three times it took for him to lose consciousness.

Once Maz had slumped harmlessly to the floor, Rose snagged the knife he had almost used to stab her, hoping to find the time to cut her bonds later.

Then Rose did the only thing a sensible person could.

She hopped for her life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Suspending Belief  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. -sniff-  
**Spoilers**: Various references to seasons one and two (new series), pre-"Doomsday."  
**Summary**: _Rose quickly pushed down all feelings of guilt. The sight of the Doctor's pout was a powerful force, and the image of his frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers. But not this time. She was about to be _eaten_. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable._  
**Author's Notes**: No beta, not British, limited knowledge of canon. Help and constructive criticism is loved and cherished (and likely needed). Thank you for your time!

--

**Part Three**

--

Not many could say that they had escaped death using nothing more than their tongue and trusty sonic screwdriver. Having successfully earned this title, the Doctor was more than a little pleased with himself.

Currently, he was all but skipping down a steel hallway, eagerly bounding his way towards… well, somewhere, feeling a bit like his veins were trying to pop out of his skin.

He just had so much to do! He had to liberate all other possible food on the planet, sow the seeds that would lead to the Laxacorvatallaion revolution, one-up his captors, find the perfect speech to exit with, find the TARDIS, find Rose, save Rose, bring Rose to the TARDIS, spend hours (days) touching Rose, memorize every inch of Rose's skin, intently study each of Rose's dips and curves, lose himself in feeling Rose...

And so on, with that general theme.

Of course, the Doctor's judgment was a bit impaired. Given half an hour or so, his common sense would probably come back to him. A great shame, really, because the Doctor could think of little things better than the prospect of having all of the time in the universe to touch Rose Tyler.

Funny thing, common sense. Always getting in the way of the enjoyable stuff. It really was astounding how many cultures throughout the galaxy had disregarded it in favor of lives of impulse. Like the Dreltons. Great race. Lots of fun at parties. Too bad they had exiled him a few centuries ago. What had that been for again? Probably something to do with his scarf. That thing, always getting him into trouble, but so very stylish.

His internal rambling came to an abrupt stop as he turned a corner and saw a figure from the other end of the hallway bounding towards him.

"Doctor!"

The Doctor felt a surge of relief flow through him as he caught the (quite lovely) sight of his companion, quickly determining that Rose appeared to be unharmed, running (or hopping, as it were) away from something, and carrying a rather large and menacing knife in her bound hands.

The last bit was a tad concerning, but at the moment the Doctor couldn't process anything more complicated than the need to get to Rose and get to her swiftly. She seemed fine (no blood, all limbs present and accounted for) but looks could be deceiving, and as such it would be most prudent of him to check her over, thoroughly, himself.

It was perfectly rational. He was a doctor, of sorts, she could very well be hurt and he had absolutely no ulterior motive for wanting to be in physical contact with her.

None whatsoever.

The Doctor grinned widely at the thought, picking up his pace to meet her halfway, and yelling a jovial, "Glucose!" in salutation.

Rose halted pre-hop, eyebrow quirked. "What?"

In retrospect, 'Rose' might have been a better greeting.

However, already committed, the Doctor continued. "Glucose!" he repeated as he reached her. "The chains were made out of glucose!" He brought his hands to her shoulders (reveling in the sensation of feeling her flesh under his fingers) and carefully avoided the knife as he adopted a low, guttural, tone. "'Sure, we'll get our hands off her. At least until we've broiled out the syrupiness.'"

Rose blinked at him blankly.

"They're allergic to sugar!" he said excitedly, jumping a bit and nicking his jacket on the knife in the process.

The Doctor frowned at the tear that formed, giving Rose a disapproving look. Didn't humans go on about the dangers of running with scissors? Hopping with a knife hardly seemed like a safe alternative.

Rose, however, didn't appear to notice. "Wait, I'm tied up with sugar?"

"Yep!" The Doctor took the blade out of her hands, grasping onto one of her wrists (who knew that the skin could be so soft?) and carefully cutting through her bindings. "The insides of the chains are lined with a protective layering so that it doesn't touch the skin, but everything else is pure glucose." He tugged away the clear rope, handing it to her so she could examine it.

She eyed it curiously, twisting it in her hands. The Doctor took the opportunity to bend down on a knee, taking hold of her ankle with one hand while working on her other chains. He smiled at the shiver that went through her as his fingers wrapped themselves around the limb.

"So you're saying that we were immobilized by sugar?" she asked a little breathily.

"Well, glucose and a strengthening agent so that it's strong enough to actually keep someone bound." The Doctor admitted reluctantly, pulling away the rope before springing to his feet. "But still! Really, very ingenious of them. What better way could there be to contain dangerous Laxacorvatallaions?"

"So the rope was made of sugar." Rose gave a nod of understanding, looking at him suspiciously. "How did you get out?"

Now finished with his task, the Doctor flung the knife over his shoulder in distaste.

"Ate my way through the chains."

Rose stared at him in disbelief. "You ate your way through sugar chains?"

"That's right!" he answered happily.

A look that could have been terror flashed across her features. "Oh no."

The Doctor grinned broadly, grabbing her hand in his and willing himself not stroke her palm with his fingers.

Stupid sugar.

"Come on!" With that he charged down the hallway, dragging Rose behind him.

"Where are we going?" Rose asked helplessly.

"The kitchen!"

"I just escaped the kitchen, thanks," she remarked irritably. "Think we can steer clear?"

"Nope. We need to arm ourselves."

"With what?" she asked, incredulous. "They don't have guns!"

The Doctor glanced at her, smiling. She'd figured that out then, had she? So observant, his Rose.

But instead of allowing her to see a glimmer of his pride, he rolled his eyes. "Always about the guns with you humans. How about we try something a little sweeter?"

"Fine, but if you want to go to the kitchen we'd best turn around." She tugged him to a standstill, gesturing behind her. "It's down the hall back there."

"Right." He nodded. "Knew that."

"Of course you did." Rose was smiling at him, a look of amused indulgence on her face as she gripped his hand with a level of intensity equal to his own.

The Doctor returned the smile.

He knew he needed her too much. Needed her to keep him from running off in the wrong direction, needed to see that exasperated expression on her face, to have her fingers entwined in his. She gave him more solace, more comfort, than she should have, than he should have allowed her to.

And he had come far too close to losing her, this girl that he needed so desperately, again.

Without warning he released her hand and moved forward, embracing her in one swift motion. "I'm so glad you're safe."

There was an instant of shocked stillness before she returned his hug fiercely, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You too, Doctor."

He allowed himself a few moments to take her in, the sight of her beautiful face, the smell of her hair, the sound of her breathing, the feel (the glorious feel) of her.

He absentmindedly wondered what she would taste like.

The Doctor frowned, internally kicking himself.

He was going to blame that thought on the sugar. Yep. Entirely the sugar's fault.

He heard Rose give a small snort, removing him from his ponderings. "And me too, for that matter. Don't tend to take too well to digestion."

"Good," the Doctor said, reluctantly pulling away from her. There was no telling what the sugar might make him do next. Nonetheless, he still sought out her hand once more, just in case. "Wouldn't know what to do with a digested companion."

"Don't think there would be much you could do." She smirked. "You'd have to shove me off back to Mum."

"Never," he responded quickly, too quickly. "Keeping you on as a crew member to the TARDIS is a top priority, I'll have you know."

Rose sent him a surprised look, bringing her gaze from his face down to their clasped hands.

The Doctor coughed, rapidly striding forward (in the correct direction) before Rose spent too much time thinking about the comment. "As is avoiding Jackie Tyler at all costs."

Rose laughed. "And his true motives are discovered."

"We both know your mother is petrifying."

"And she never caught you in the back of Jimmy Stone's car."

The Doctor turned and raised an eyebrow at her.

"It was a very unfortunate situation."

Trying to clear his mind of the image of Rose snogging a bloke called Jimmy Stone in the back of a car, the Doctor changed the subject. "Speaking of unfortunate situations, weren't you strung out on a stick and about to be roasted the last time I saw you?"

"Yep."

"Got out of that, I see."

"Had a chat with the cook, is all."

"Right." He sent her a smile. "Persuaded him to let you go?"

"Sure," Rose said agreeably. "Something like that." She pulled him to a halt once more, pointing to a door. "There's the kitchen."

"Let's go take our complaints to the chef then, shall we?"

Releasing her hand he strode forward, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and slowly opening the door.

Only to be met with the sight of a man crumpled to the floor in front of him, a grotesquely bent serving tray tossed at his side.

The Doctor glanced behind him to see his cohort smiling smugly as she eyed the carnage.

He sincerely hoped that Rose never felt the need to persuade him in a similar fashion.

The Doctor turned his attention back to the cook as he stepped further into the kitchen, tilting his head in confusion. "He's human."

"Neo-human," Rose corrected, following him in.

"Right, of course!" He slapped himself on the forehead, noting a small stir of movement from the man on the ground below him. "51st century, the immigration laws have been relaxed. There are hordes of neo-humans about on every planet now, aren't there?"

He looked back to Rose expectantly.

"Erm, right." She nodded dramatically. "Yeah." A whistle. "Hordes."

He glared. "No need to get sarcastic."

"Says the one who almost got us killed by being rude."

The Doctor opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by a pitiful groan originating from somewhere around his shoes.

"I'm sorry!"

He glanced down, taking in the cowering, scrawny, form of the cook before frowning thoughtfully. Something about him was disturbingly familiar.

"I know I'm worthless, just please let me keep my wages!"

The man peeked out from behind his hands, glancing around uncertainly before resting his eyes on Rose. "Oh," he muttered as he uncurled, tone going from meek to annoyed. "You again." He slowly stood up and rubbed the back of his head. "Wonderful." He gave a dismissive nod at the Doctor. "And you must be the Time Lord."

The Doctor started at his nonchalance. "That's right," he said with strained patience, walking towards the man, backing him into the wall.

The cook gulped.

"I'm the angry Time Lord whose traveling companion you almost killed." He pushed the man against the wall, pressing the sonic screwdriver menacingly to his throat. (Not that it could do much, mind. But the cook didn't need to know that.) "Nice to meet you." He pressed a button on the screwdriver, making it _hum_ sinisterly against the cook's artery. "Now show me where you keep the sugar."

There was a pointed cough from behind him.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and muttered an obedient, "Please."

They almost get eaten _once_ and she never lets him live it down. Typical.

The man gave another convulsive gulp, ignoring the question (and the please) entirely in his panic.

Well that was the last time the Doctor would try to be polite.

"I was just doing my job!"

"And how many have died so you could 'do your job'?" the Doctor demanded, feeling his anger building. "How many have you complacently slaughtered for a paycheck? Do you know?" He shoved the screwdriver a bit more harshly into his neck. "Dozens, hundreds?" He sent the cook a calculating, cold, gaze. "You're a murderer."

The man shook his head vehemently, sweat forming on his brow. "I've been doing what I have to so I can provide for my family, so I can keep them out of harm's way." His voice had gotten meek again, desperate. "You don't know what the lower city's like in Ellricion," he pleaded. "I do this so that we don't have to end up there."

"A white picket fence isn't worth lives, Maz," Rose said from the Doctor's left, placing a hand on his shoulder.

It took all of the Doctor's willpower to continue to look intimidating rather than giving into temptation and leaning into the touch.

The cook (Maz) turned to her, a hint of fury in his tone. "It is when that fence keeps out the radical Laxacorvatallaions who want to slaughter all of the neo-humans on the planet." He glared. "It is when it will keep my child protected."

"You've been killing people," the Doctor said harshly, unsympathetic.

Maz looked back at him, anger fading to be replaced with fear. "Wouldn't you, to keep the people you love safe?"

The Doctor had done many things to the people he loved. He had sent them away, left them behind, forgotten them and imprinted them on his memory. He had killed for them, he had died for them, he had brought down worlds and civilizations to keep them safe and had sacrificed them to protect those same civilizations. Only one constant, however, remained.

In the end, he had lost them all.

He felt Rose's eyes on him, studying him, sensing his unease. Her fingers tightened around his arm, offering comfort.

She knew him too well, this human shopgirl from Earth.

Straightening himself, the Doctor tightened his grip on the sonic screwdriver and repositioned it firmly against Maz's neck. "Where is the sugar?"

"Sugar?" Maz frowned at the oddity of the question, some of his fright being replaced by confusion. "The Laxacorvatallaions are allergic to sugar. Why would I keep any in my kitchen? That would get me fired." He paused. "Then again," he muttered, "so would letting the food run off."

"I am _not_ food," Rose said indignantly.

"You are to the people in charge," he shot back.

"Which is all you care about."

Maz was about to open his mouth again when the Doctor pressed the screwdriver into his skin.

"Stop talking or you'll only make it worse for yourself."

He obediently snapped his mouth closed.

Fear, the Doctor had learned, was an incredibly effective motivator.

"The Laxacorvatallaions are allergic to sugar, yes," the Doctor said slowly. "But most life forms have glucose in their system. Logically, since they have a tendency to eat a great variety of life forms, the nobles must equip their cook with something that can remove the glucose."

"Oh." Maz's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you talking about the dusting powder?"

Rose tilted her head. "The dusting powder?"

"Yeah. Whenever I'm finished with a dish I have to dust it with that powder." He nodded towards a counter, indicating a small box. "Sprinkle it on, wait a few minutes, say 'activate,' come back to find my dish half of the size it used to be, sucked dry. Then I make the final touches and send it out with the waiters." He shrugged. "Dusting powder."

Rose turned to the Doctor. "You'd think they'd come up with a better name than that."

The Time Lord nodded sagely. "Something like 'Sugar Sapper.'"

"Oh, that's got a nice ring to it." She grinned. "I like it."

The Doctor smirked. "I aim to please."

"Whatever it's called," Maz interrupted, "it gets rid of the sugar. I don't have any in here." He blinked at them repeatedly, the indication obviously being that, since he didn't have what they wanted, they should leave.

The Doctor ignored the less than subtle hint.

"So what?" Rose asked. "It just disappears?"

Maz gave another shrug. "I suppose. I never really asked, never cared."

"Don't ask, don't care." The Doctor said heatedly, staring down the man. "You just do what you're told and go on about your way, never considering who you harm in the process."

For the first time Maz met the Doctor's gaze unflinchingly. "I never wanted to hurt anybody."

"But you did," the Doctor said without compassion. He pushed away from the wall, gently shaking off Rose's hand, making some adjustments to the sonic screwdriver and grabbing the box of Sugar Sapper. "Now it's time for you to atone for it." He pressed the screwdriver to the box, shaking it a few times and looking back up at Maz, grabbing a handful of the powder.

Rose eyed him nervously. "Doctor, Maz will die without the glucose in his blood."

The man's eyes widened. "You wouldn't," Maz pleaded fearfully.

"Wouldn't what?" the Doctor asked, stepping closer. "Wouldn't kill you without a thought? Without a care?" He smiled without humor. "Why not? It's what you do."

"Doctor!" Rose began as he took another step closer.

The Doctor said nothing, instead throwing the powder on the neo-human.

Maz fell into full-blown terror. "No, please, don't-"

"Activate," the Time Lord said calmly and clearly, watching with interest as Maz's form disintegrated in front of him.

There were several moments of tense silence as the Doctor continued to examine the spot where Maz had been and Rose remained frozen in shock a small distance away.

He felt more than saw her take a small step towards him, hesitant (afraid?), as she laid a hand on his arm, turning him towards her.

"Doctor-" she started in disbelief, her face incredibly close to his own.

"Wait," the Doctor interrupted smoothly, tilting his head to the side, trying not to be distracted by her eyes.

"But Doctor-"

He held up a finger and brought it to her lips, marveling at the smooth, silky texture against the pad of his finger. "Sh," he muttered quietly. He brought a thumb to her cheek, stroking her skin while smiling gently. "Trust me."

And because Rose did trust him (he sometimes worried that she trusted him too much), she paused in her questions. She waited.

And moments later a cry was heard echoing in the distance.

"Ugh!" There was the faint sound of the slopping of a thick liquid mingled in with Maz's noises of disgust. "This was not in my job description!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: Suspending Belief  
**Word Count**: 4,289  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. sniff  
**Spoilers**: Pre-"Doomsday," with general smatterings of season two.  
**Summary**: _Rose quickly pushed down all feelings of guilt. The sight of the Doctor's pout was a powerful force, and the image of his frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers. But not this time. She was about to be _eaten_. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable._  
**Author's Notes**: Concrit is always needed and appreciated. Thank you for your time!

--

**Part Four**

--

At least she was getting plenty of exercise.

That was Rose's sole comfort as the Doctor tugged her along through the Laxacorvatallaion prison cells, running to find and release the entirety of the planet's remaining prisoners.

There were many logistical problems with this plan (releasing all of the planet's remaining prisoners? How many were there, exactly? And they were prisoners. Not all of them were necessarily the type you wanted to sit down and have a cup of tea with. Not to mention the small matter of getting them out of the very large and very heavily guarded building), but Rose decided to focus on the most avoidable downside of their current predicament.

The running seemed a bit excessive.

After all, there were no Laxacorvatallaions currently chasing them, and even if there had been it wouldn't have been a great challenge to out-jog them. Stubby legs, typically, did not make for strong sprinters.

Despite what the Doctor thought, Rose was certain that it really wouldn't kill them to walk somewhere for once.

However, the Time Lord seemed oblivious to his companion's irritation, dashing down yet another steel hallway while clutching franticly at Rose's hand.

Rose was forced to take a mental pause at that. There was a strange, desperate quality to the Doctor's grasp on her fingers, and he kept bringing his gaze to her, as if he was afraid that she would vanish if he didn't keep his eyes on her, if he didn't hold her tightly enough.

It was odd, to say the least. The way his fingers would stray to the inside of her wrist, how his stare would linger on her face, how his thumb would brush over the skin of her palm like a caress.

Yes, it was all very odd indeed.

But not necessarily unwelcome.

Not that it meant anything, mind. Rose had come to the realization that she had a very active imagination, one that should not be indulged. Not even for lingering touches, caresses or the memories of his fingers against her lips, gently quieting her.

The suspension of belief, after all, was not something she was prone to.

No, the Doctor was probably just shaken up by the events of the last hour. Probably still coping with the excessive amounts of sugar in his system (which, as far as Rose was concerned, functioned as a hallucinogen when applied to the Doctor's already spastic personality). Probably still disturbed by Maz's surprisingly perceptive questions earlier in the evening, for which the Doctor still hadn't forgiven the man.

As was made evident by the Doctor's sticky solution to locating the glucose. Rose might have gone so far as to call it cruel, the way he had lead Maz (and Rose) to believe he was going to kill the man, the harshness to the sentence, the indifference and terrifying apathy with which he preformed the act. It would never cease to petrify Rose, the way the Doctor could so easily shut down his compassion. It reminded her how powerful he was, how alien. It demanded that she accept that, despite everything, he never was and never could be entirely human.

After finding Maz in a hidden storeroom of the kitchen, the Doctor and Rose had bagged up as much of the glucose as possible and then immediately set off to find the prison cells. Once they had reached the cellblock guards, the Doctor had prodded Maz until the neo-human reluctantly aided the traveling duo, distracting the two Laxacorvatallaions on duty with a story about an intruder in his kitchen.

He hadn't been too happy about that, still more than a little bitter about his (however manufactured) brush with death and the slimy, filmy substance that he had been deposited in as a result. After they had pulled him out of the gunk, Maz had spent at least twenty minutes frantically rinsing himself off, convinced that if the Laxacorvatallaions found any trace of the substance on him they would fire (if not kill) him.

One had to wonder why the Laxacorvatallaions didn't simply get rid of the sugar, rather than keep it stowed away in their own kitchen. It was obviously dangerous to their species, and keeping it at hand seemed certain to lead to disaster.

Fortunately, if one traveled with a man who was the equivalent to a walking-talking encyclopedia to the universe, one didn't have to wonder long.

"So the sugar doesn't just disappear?"

"Of course not," the Doctor said promptly, darting around a corner and pulling her along. "The law of the conservation of mass. Matter can neither be created nor destroyed." He looked at her, smirking. "Of course, it can still be compressed, expanded or teleported, but it can't vanish. And since space pollution is very strictly regulated, it can't be teleported all that far." He paused momentarily, glancing into an empty cell before continuing on. "So, after a bit of jiggery-pokery to the Sugar Sapper, I got Maz transferred to the exact spot where the Laxacorvatallaions send the unwanted glucose in their food. No harm done."

She heard a snort from somewhere behind them.

Rose ignored it, asking, "That's why he's the cook, isn't it?"

"_He's_ right here."

Rose glanced over her shoulder to see Maz chugging along behind them, straightening his falling glasses as they continued on, glaring at her.

She did feel a bit guilty for her careless disregard of the man, and was about to apologize when the Doctor spoke up.

"_He's_ lost the right to be addressed directly," the Doctor shot back, scowling at the cook.

Maz's mouth quickly snapped shut.

The Doctor turned his attention back to his companion, an expression of infinite patience on his face. "Yes, Rose?"

She thought it best to remain tactfully silent on the matter. "Maz's human." She paused, giving him a nod of acknowledgment as they kept jogging. "Well, sort of." She shook her head slightly before continuing on, trying to keep the mental images of various species 'dancing' out of her mind. "And even though they obviously don't like humans here, he can get rid of the glucose in the nobility's food without being harmed, unlike the Laxacorvatallaions." She looked at the Doctor expectantly. "They need him."

The Doctor sent her a proud grin as they slowed to a stop. It seemed that they had finally, after passing dozens of unmarked doors with nothing save for orange lights flashing above them, found a cell with occupants. It's light was mauve.

With so few prisoners on the planet, Rose could only assume that inmates were not held long in their cells. With a hungry nobility to feed, there was likely no need to.

"Impressed with yourself, aren't you?" the Doctor asked cheekily, pulling his screwdriver out of an inside pocket of his jacket.

"I have my moments," Rose answered smugly, noting with interest how he kept a tight grip on her hand.

They weren't running, weren't in any immediate danger and neither had any need for comfort, and yet he was still holding her hand, his fingers carefully cradling her own.

Odd.

He gave her another blinding grin as he activated the screwdriver. "All moments are yours, Rose."

Very odd.

At a loss for words, Rose simply beamed back, attempting to quench the desire to pull him closer to her, to wrap her arms around him and to kiss him. To take infinite pleasure in showing him all of the wonders of human ingenuity.

Rose really despised her imagination, during times like this.

"How touching," Maz panted, bent over and hands clutching at his knees as he attempted to regain his breath. "Will you let me leave now?" he asked, straightening. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"No," the Doctor answered, bending down to examine the lock to the cell.

Maz threw up his arms in exasperation. "I've already, 'shown' you were the sugar was. I've told you where the other prisoners are, I've gotten you past the guards." He gestured dramatically. "I can't do anything else for you!" He barked out a laugh. "I wouldn't even be a good hostage because they don't care if I die."

He paused, staring at them both intently.

"I'm worthless," he said slowly, as if articulating for small children.

The Doctor turned away from the lock, sending the man a significant glance. "You're only as worthless as you allow yourself to be," he said calmly, a powerful undercurrent in his tone.

Maz gulped.

There was a moment of tense silence before the Doctor spoke again. "Besides," the Time Lord remarked happily, disposition changing abruptly. "You're carrying all the glucose." He sent Maz an obnoxious smile.

Maz had several long plastic bags slung around his shoulders (where they had been placed ever since they had passed the guards), each about half Rose's height and as thick as her arm.

Hence, all of the panting.

The neo-human frowned. "You hardly need me for that."

"Oh, I don't know," the Doctor said as he brought a hand to his lower back. "My back's been a little funny lately. The extra weight wouldn't really be good for it." He looked expectantly at Rose. "Don't you think?"

She gave a solemn nod. "I should say so." She regarded Maz seriously. "The spine is very delicate."

Maz visibly deflated in front of them, defeated. "What did I do to you guys?"

Rose glared, insulted. "You were going to cook me!"

Rose felt like this was hardly something that should've slipped his mind.

He waved a dismissive hand. "Well, besides that."

Rose brought her hands to her hips. "I don't really think you should need to do anything else!"

Maz sighed audibly. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry!" He raised his eyebrows in question, absently pushing up his glasses. "Are you happy? Can I go home now?"

"No," the Doctor responded, folding his arms in front of his chest. "You're coming with us so that when we need to make our way back to the dining hall we don't get lost. And because I want you to." He frowned and looked thoughtfully to the ceiling. "Not necessarily in that order." He shook his head before returning his attention to Maz, pointing to a spot on the other side of the hall. "Now stand over there and don't move, or else." He brought the screwdriver to eye level and made it light up and _hum_, eyeing Maz menacingly.

Maz quickly ran over to his designated location.

The Doctor maintained the scowl for a bit longer before leaning over to Rose, whispering, "Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't run off."

Rose tried not to tremble at his breath brushing against her neck.

He turned back to the cell, using the screwdriver to fiddle with the lock once more. "And make sure he doesn't see that my fierce weapon is a sophisticated lock pick."

"Right," Rose said, shaking herself as she moved between the Doctor and Maz, blocking the human's view.

She took the time to observe the man as he struggled with the bags of sugar, throwing off the things one at a time only to promptly trip on one of them as he made a move to sit down.

She shook her head in disbelief. "Why _are_ we keeping him with us, Doctor?"

"Because I don't trust him not to run off squealing as soon as we let him out of our sight," he replied quickly, the screwdriver still humming away. There was a small pause before the Doctor continued. "And because there's something familiar about him," he admitted.

Rose's brow furrowed. "Familiar?"

"I can't place it, but I know his face."

"Do you think he's dangerous?" Rose eyed the neo-human speculatively as he cleaned his glasses on his shirt.

"Don't know. Which is why we're keeping him with us."

Rose sighed. "Wandering about with a possibly insane killer or something and instead of getting as far away from him as is humanly possible-"

"Gallifreyanly possible," he corrected.

"-we're making sure he stays close by?"

"Yep," the Doctor said cheerfully.

"Of course." She rubbed at her forehead.

"I'm sorry Rose," he said, adopting an odd accent as he straightened, Rose turning to him. "But that's how I roll."

She rolled her eyes.

He gave the door a tug, smiling when it opened. "Got it."

Rose made a move to enter the room, only to have the Doctor catch her elbow, raising an arm and shutting the door closed.

"Wait," he said, taking a step closer to her.

He was close enough so she could see each of his eyelashes, so she could feel his lank frame through his jacket, so she could nearly hear the sound of his two hearts beating in his chest.

Much, much too close as far as Rose's rational mind was concerned.

But her imagination (the one that was much too vivid) was having a ball.

"This is a prison." He smiled in a manner that might have seductive, had it been any normal man (but he was the Doctor, the last of the great race of the Time Lords, and he didn't seduce girls like Rose Tyler). "Not all of them could be as innocent as we are."

And exactly how innocent was that, again? Rose had forgotten. Hopefully not too innocent. Where would be the fun in that?

Her mind wanted to contemplate these ideas further, but in the next instant the Doctor visibly shook himself and the smile changed.

With a small cough he let go of her arm, backing away and self-consciously wiping his hands on his jacket as he looked over his shoulder, yelling, "Maz!"

"What?" the cook grumbled, slumped against the wall amongst the glucose, dejectedly staring at the floor.

The Doctor gestured to the cell door. "Do you know what this lot is in for?"

"No," Maz replied grumpily without glancing at the cell, reluctantly looking up at the door and reading, "Holding Cell Twenty-Five." He closed his eyes, thinking. "That's minor infractions, I think. Things like petty theft." He sent them a meaningful look. "Being annoying or otherwise insulting the nobility. Those sorts of things."

The Doctor gave a wide grin. "Just my type then." He took a hold of Rose's shoulders and pulled her away from the door.

She moved without struggle or much thought, still recovering from the earlier proximity.

Stupid, stupid imagination.

Once she was out of the way the Doctor flung open the door, jumping into the cell and gesturing to the newly established exit instantly. "Out you get," he told the occupants.

Rose, reason returning, peeked a head into the room, taking note of a variety of creatures she had never seen before. Most were of a small and reptilian nature (likely natives to the planet), but there were others who were obviously… alien aliens.

Among them were large, nearly bear-like creatures in one of the corner of the cell, while an almost human-looking woman watched them from the center of the room, with eyes that took up her entire face and limbs that were roughly the width of Rose's fingers.

Rose hoped that she never get used to this aspect of traveling with the Doctor. Wonder, she had found, was a quality far too precious to lose.

"Come on then!" the Time Lord said in an exasperated tone. "Can't stand here all day waiting for you lot to gather your senses." He gave a large sweeping motion and pointed out of the door. "Be free!"

Hesitantly, they began to move, the life forms slowly exiting the room and entering the steel hallway, all glancing around in confusion.

Rose doubted any of them had expected to leave the cell alive.

"Wonderful, they're free," Maz remarked from his corner, standing up and brushing dirt off of himself. "Can we leave?"

Rose glared at him. "Not until they're out of here and safe."

"But you have to go!" Maz yelled desperately. "I've already been seen too much with you. If I get fired-"

"What?" Rose interrupted. "You'll have to find a new job? You're saving lives, Maz." She shook her head, looking at the man in confusion. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

She heard a small, squeaking voice and the Doctor's, "What's that?" from somewhere in the cell as Maz considered her.

"There is no other job, not for me, not here." He pointed at the released prisoners. "It's either their lives or the lives of me and mine."

"It's not that simple-"

"Not that simple?" Maz snorted. "Of course it's that simple, whether we want it to be or not." His tone adopted a level of scorn. "Where have you been for the past fifty years? In this universe it's either killed or be killed."

Rose examined the neo-human, recalling him in the kitchen, how his whole body had shook as he had prepared to slaughter her.

"You aren't a killer."

"No," Maz said simply, meeting her eyes steadily. "But I've developed a stomach for it, just like every other human who's stayed alive."

Rose regarded him sadly, thinking of how much of himself the man must had lost as he tried to protect that which was most dear to him. "But don't you see, Maz?"

Maz frowned. "See what?"

"You shouldn't have had to."

Before the neo-human could respond the Doctor had walked out of the cell, a small, red, lizard-like creature on his shoulder. "We have a problem."

Maz looked away from Rose to glance at the alien, rolling his eyes moments later. "Wonderful."

Rose furrowed her brow. "What?"

"It's a marvilinion," Maz muttered.

"_She's_ a marvilinion," the alien squeaked.

Rose looked to the Doctor expectantly. "Like the one from when we arrived?"

He gave a nod as the marvilinion sniffed. "He was one of my sons."

Rose let out a sound of sympathy, coming forward and stroking the alien in what she hoped was a soothing manner, the creature leaning into her touch.

Maz simply let out a groan from across the hall. "And since your friend is such a supporter of the marvilinions that can only mean-"

"We have to help her."

Maz gave a dramatic wince.

"She has another child, a younger son," the Time Lord continued, handing the marvilinion to Rose. "A different cook in another sector of the building is about to prepare him for the children's dinner."

Maz let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, poor Marty, the old bugger, stuck cooking for the little monsters."

The Doctor looked at the man for the first time since leaving the cell. "You know who the cook is? Where he is?"

"Marty? Yeah." Maz grinned. "Funny guy. Great drinking buddy. Can down more hyper-vodkas than God."

The Doctor turned and shut the cell door. "Take us there."

"What?" Maz asked, eyes widening. "No! I thought you were going to your ship after this and leaving!"

"Change of plans. Now we're going to visit a fellow chef." The Doctor sent the man a sour look. "You should be excited," he nearly spat, walking over to the neo-human and shoving the bags of glucose at him. "You can exchange recipes on how to kill the innocent."

Maz flinched at the words but didn't look away from the angry Time Lord, hefting the bags on to his shoulders.

The Doctor grabbed the man by the collar of the shirt and tugged him forward, beginning to charge down the hall. "Come on, Rose."

"Doctor," Rose called to him as she glanced around the hallway, the marvilinion having come to rest on her shoulder.

He paused, turning back to her, eyebrow raised in question.

She indicated the aliens littering the hallway. "What about them? They can't make it out on their own."

The Doctor examined the group, no doubt noting their lost expressions, their stoic stillness, the eerie silence that they had maintained throughout the ordeal.

"Right." He took a breath. "Okay, well, we can take them with us-"

Maz's expression became panicked. "But we'll be spotted!"

The Doctor glared at the man, about to shout before Rose quickly intervened.

"He's right. You can't draw that much attention to yourself, and we don't have the time to leave them here and then come back." She smiled ruefully, thinking about the mess they had left in the kitchen. "By then someone would have noticed that we've gone missing." She inhaled deeply, squaring her shoulders, readying herself for a fight. "I'll go."

The Doctor frowned. "Rose-"

"We both know it's the only way, Doctor," she said quickly. "Don't worry. I'll take some sugar." She moved forward and tugged one of the bags off of Maz's shoulders before firmly settling it on her own, the marvilinion scampering down her arm in a panic. "Get them to an exit and come right back," Rose reassured him. "Won't even know I'm gone before I'll be here again, okay?" She sent him a brave grin.

The Doctor observed Rose critically, his gaze shifting between her and the recently released prisoners, a helpless look on his face.

For all of the uncertainty Rose had regarding the Doctor, all the questions about how he felt towards her and how she felt towards him, there could be no question that in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to keep her near.

And equally apparent was the fact that he knew, however reluctantly, that she was right.

He let go of Maz, reaching into his inner jacket pocket as he strode forward. "Here, take this." He pulled out the sonic screwdriver and handed it to her. "When you've gotten them out of here, put it to this setting." He showed her the correct knob. "It will lead you back to the TARDIS, wherever it is."

She glanced from the screwdriver to the Doctor. "But how will you-"

"I'll manage," he interrupted smoothly, putting his hands on her shoulders, staring at her intently. "Rose, when you find the TARDIS I want you to go inside and stay in there, all right?" He shook her gently. "Don't come out for anything."

Rose furrowed her brow, confounded by his anxiety. This wasn't the first time they had been in danger, wasn't the first time she had been placed in harm's way. Then why was he so afraid? "But Doctor-"

His fingers tightened around her shoulders. "Please, Rose." His expression softened as he brought one hand to her cheek, gently brushing his fingers against her skin. "I don't want to lose you."

She would have leaned into the touch, reveled in it, had it not seemed so frightened.

"You won't, Doctor."

He shook his head. "You don't know that." He returned his hand to her shoulder, giving her another shake. "Just, please, I need you to stay inside. This once."

It was in that instant that Rose realized that something within the past few hours had terrified the Doctor.

It was a humbling and chilling thought, one that made it impossible for Rose to deny him his one, modest, request.

"All right."

A look of relief passed over his features, some of the tension left his body and in one swift motion he had bent forward and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering on her skin as he whispered, "Thank you," into her ear.

And before Rose had time to process the event, before she could imprint the sensation in her memory, he had gone. Turned a heel and started off down the hallway, giving Maz a clipped, "Let's go."

"No."

Rose looked at the cook in astonishment.

The Doctor stopped in his tracks and retreated, standing in front of the neo-human and raising an eyebrow. "No?"

Maz gulped. "You just gave her your weapon," he said, pointing the sonic screwdriver still in Rose's hand. "You can't keep me hostage any more, I could leave and you couldn't stop me!"

The Doctor took a step forward. "I am the last of a ancient race, a people with astounding power and the ability to wield space and time." Another step. "I've been through wars, revolutions and uprisings. I've made kings and great leaders with a thought and I've destroyed them just as quickly." Step. "I've been to the dawn of time and I've been to its end." Another. "I've made and broken worlds and I've been to the farthest reaches of the universe and back."

By this point Maz was pressed against the wall as the Doctor stared dispassionately on, hands clasped neatly behind is back.

"But what you say is true, Maz," the Time Lord admitted, nodding his head. "I have no weapons." He leaned forward. "But do you really think I'm unarmed?" He lowered his voice, whispering ominously, "If I wanted to, I could kill you with my mind."

Maz recoiled.

The Doctor took the time to send Rose a gleeful wink before clapping Maz on the shoulder, making the man squeal and flinch in terror.

"Now come on!"

With that he set off down the hallway, leaving Maz shivering against the steel wall.

Maz watched him for a few seconds before turning to Rose. "Can he really do that?" he asked franticly.

She adopted an innocent expression as the marvilinion made her way back to Rose's shoulder. "Do what, exactly?"

He swallowed compulsively, eyes following the Doctor as he bounded down the hall. "Kill me with his mind?"

"Oh, well, couldn't really say," Rose remarked blandly, rubbing the back of her neck. "But, he is a Time Lord." She locked eyes with the neo-human. "Wouldn't put it past him."

Maz made a sound that might have been a whimper.

Rose smirked. "Might be best to catch up."

Maz nearly tripped over his own feet in the haste with which he tried to reach the Doctor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: Suspending Belief  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. –sniff-  
**Spoilers**: Pre-"Doomsday," with some references to season two.  
**Summary**: _Rose quickly pushed down all feelings of guilt. The sight of the Doctor's pout was a powerful force, and the image of his frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers. But not this time. She was about to be _eaten_. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable._  
**Author's Notes**: Any concrit or simple advice is always worshiped, as I'm certain that I'm making mistakes at every turn. Plus I'm still not British (woe) and have no beta (although not for lack of offers. –loves offers-). Thank you for your time!

--

**Part Five**

--

The Doctor would never cease to be amazed at the human race's astounding ability to whine incessantly. Really, they had perfected complaining to an annoying art form, one too faultless in its sheer irritability to criticize without some twisted sense of guilt.

Not that the guilt would stop the Doctor from doing so anyway, of course.

"Would you stop with your blithering already?" he snapped to the man muttering in front of him. "You're annoyed to be here, I get it. No need to repeat it in varying whimpering frequencies."

Maz shot the Doctor an irritated look over his shoulder. "I could get killed by the Aristocracy's Guard, a force numbering over three hundred Laxacorvatallaions, all because a Time Lord with nothing better to do decided he wanted to go gallivanting about and save a marvilinion." He turned forward and slumped his frame dejectedly. "I think I should be allowed to whimper a bit."

Maz, it seemed, was more than a bit found of melodramatics.

"Oh, come on, Maz," the Doctor said cheerfully, attempting to brighten the neo-human's mood.

Nothing was worse than a pouting traveling companion.

"It's not all that bad. Where's your sense of adventure?" He smiled happily, gazing at the rafters of the hallways contemplatively. "That's what I love about you humans. You have to explore, have to poke and prod where you're not wanted, have to discover, have to constantly change." He thought of Rose and he felt himself smile without conscious thought. "You lot have this unending drive to be what is possible."

"Well that's stupid on our parts then, isn't it?"

The Time Lord looked away from the ceiling to give Maz's back a baffled look. "It's glorious!"

The Doctor could practically sense the cook's eye roll.

"Don't act all superior." He studied the man intently. "You were like that once too, Maz, or else you wouldn't be here on this alien planet."

Maz stiffened, halted for a moment before resolutely continuing to march on.

"But something's happened." The Doctor frowned. "You've let your drive die." He shook his head sadly. "You could have done great things, you know."

"And what makes you think I haven't?" Maz demanded, still charging ahead. "I've done plenty of grand things."

The Doctor raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You're a neo-human cook in a Laxacorvatallaion palace, constantly persecuted, petrified for your life and your sense of exploration has been crushed out of you." He eyed the man with pity. "There's nothing majestic about that, Maz."

The human stopped, facing the Time Lord. "I'm a father," he stated firmly, pride apparent in every syllable.

The Doctor let out an exasperated breath and allowed himself an internal shudder. Domestics.

"That's not what I meant."

"Right," Maz grumbled angrily, obviously sensing the Doctor's scorn. "Because that's not enough for you, is it? Family just doesn't cut it, does it? Isn't 'majestic' enough." He went back to stomping down the hallway. "So what _do_ you mean then, Doctor? What great things should I have done? You mean grand exploits like yours? Want me to explore, poke and prod, change and then go about along my way, risking my life just because I can?"

"Yep," he responded with pleasure, pointedly ignoring his guide's anger. "Best feeling in the universe, putting your life at stake for something worth believing in."

Maz scoffed. "Easy words to say, when you can fly from world to world in your blue box, never having need to look to where you've been." He hefted the bags of sugar higher on his shoulders, increasing his pace. "Simple enough to risk everything when you've got nothing to holding you back, isn't it? Exploring is a uncomplicated matter when all you've got to care for is yourself." He waved a hand flippantly, dramatically. "You can jump about, put yourself at jeopardy, _discover_ all you want when you haven't got someone depending on you." He sent the Doctor a disdainful look. "It's not that simple when you care for something other than yourself."

The Doctor could feel his anger building, using all of his substantial will to suppress it. How dare this fool imply that he didn't care for anyone? How dare the little, insignificant, human assume that, after saving his world thousands of times throughout the man's past and future, that the Doctor didn't care for someone, something, beyond himself? The Doctor wanted to yell, to scream, to infuse his rage into words that he knew would hurt, destroy, the puny man before him.

But, after nine hundred years, he had learned something of restraint.

So, instead, he raised a mildly amused eyebrow. "Why not?"

"It's selfish."

"But hiding away down in your kitchen, watching, _participating_, in the slaughter of innocents, that's real altruism?" the Doctor bit out, some of his rage seeping through.

Maz winced and halted their progress, locking his gaze with the Doctor's in a show of courage that seemed out of character.

Not many would stand up to an alien they believed could think them into the grave.

"I'm not proud of what I've done, but if I don't have a job my family starves. If I get killed they've got no one to keep them safe." He smiled bitterly. "So yeah, I could fight the nobility, the prejudice, I could challenge the way things are." He gestured down the hall they were walking down. "I could leave Shela and little Retallamazdos to go and free all of the marvilinions."

The Doctor's ears perked up and he furrowed his brow thoughtfully, studying the man with a new, far more critical eye. Retallamazdos. He knew that name. If it wasn't for the timeline…

"But what happens to them then?" Maz continued. "When you swan about, when you're _noble_, you're putting everyone who needs you at risk. So, yes." He nodded. "I'm a coward, I admit it. But I'll be a coward rather than put my family in danger." He eyed the Doctor seriously. "I may be weak and pathetic, I might even be despicable, but I care for mine in a way you'll never be capable of, Doctor."

The Doctor felt the words like a vicious stab in the chest, like a fatal puncture wound that only managed to pierce so deeply because it's aim was so sure, so true.

He could never protect the people he cared for, not really. He could keep them at a distance, bring them close, leave them at home or take them along for the ride, but they all knew that he could never stop. He couldn't park the TARDIS, couldn't leave the universe undefended, couldn't abandon the helpless.

It was why he had lost so many people before, and it was why Rose wasn't with him now, when he felt with a growing certainty that was where she belonged. It was why he had let go of her hand, stopped caressing her skin, allowed his eyes to leave her face.

It had been hard, nearly impossible, to let her go. It shouldn't have been, of course, and normally it wouldn't have. After all, this day, while interesting, didn't, at first glance, seem particularly different from any other that he and Rose had shared. They were always in danger, always on the run, always narrowly escaping death. No, it was something else. Some other, less apparent danger that had made him, the Doctor, the last of the Time Lords, afraid. And he suspected that he knew what it was.

It because she had been taken away from him, because he hadn't been there to keep her safe. Because he had come so very close to losing her and there would have been nothing that he could have done had she not escaped herself.

It had happened before, of course. They had been separated, torn apart, faced different dangers in the same scheme. But here, with these particular monsters, he would have been too late and she would have died, just when he had begun to realize how much time (what he had so much of but that she possessed in such a small amount) he had wasted, how many opportunities he had missed to care for her (but not love. What the Doctor loved the Doctor lost) the way he should have, the way she deserved.

And still he let her go. Even if he was petrified, in spite of how much he wanted her near him, how much he _needed_ her near him, he had let her go.

Maz was right. The Doctor would never be capable of the kind of caring that would have kept her safe. Not without great personal sacrifice, the sort of which the Doctor wasn't yet sure if he was capable of. He needed her too much for self-sacrifice.

The human frowned suddenly, as if startled by his own audacity, passion and ability to forget that he was telling off a very powerful, mind-killing, Time Lord.

He coughed, clearing his throat, before adopting an apologetic, obedient, tone once more. "Not that I'm criticizing, of course." He laughed weakly, in a panic. "Listen to me, twittering on like an idiot. You're a busy Time Lord on the run, best not to waste away your afternoon, yeah?" He pointed to a door only a short distance away. "Marty's right through here." He strode forward, muttering an almost inaudible, "You can focus your mind-melting energies on him."

The Doctor followed, shaking off his somber thoughts and prodding the man closer to the door, tugging the bags of sugar off of his shoulders. "You go first."

Maz looked decidedly alarmed as he shook off the last of the sugar. "What?"

"He knows you," the Doctor explained slowly. "Go in, start a conversation, put his mind at ease before I go in and steal from him."

Honestly. Didn't these people know how to properly go about robbing someone?

"About that." Maz shifted awkwardly on his feet, eyeing the door to the kitchen with trepidation. "I sort of owe Marty some money."

The Doctor blinked pointedly at the man. "You gamble?"

"Just once!" He insisted.

The Doctor sighed.

"The odds were thirty to one in my favor!"

The Time Lord shook his head in exasperation. "You're some role model."

Maz shrugged helplessly. "Kid's not born yet. I've got a few more months to be disreputable, all right?" Maz tilted his head, a doomed expression overtaking his features. "Or years."

"Years?" the Doctor asked, voice strained. "So when you say you're a father does it just mean that you have the intention of becoming one at some point within the next decade?"

Maz waved a dismissive hand. "Laxacorvatallaions have a pregnancy lasting three years, humans have nine months, other aspects of my heritage are varied between two months and a year... There's really no telling when the baby will pop out."

No telling? "So, technically speaking, your child could be born one year, three months and seven days from now?"

Maz stared at him oddly. "I suppose, yeah."

"Hm." The Doctor responded carefully. "Interesting."

Maz blinked. "Why is that interesting?"

"Oh, no reason, really." He gave Maz another shove towards the kitchen door, grinning like a madman. The timeline fit! Sort of shocking really. Maz, out of all the neo-humans on the planet...

In any case, currently he had bigger (or at least more immediate) fish to fry.

A decidedly marvilinion like-fish, and he supposed he was trying to _avoid_ the frying, but the point stood. More important things to deal with presently.

He gave Maz another shove. "Now go in."

Maz stared powerlessly at him. "But-"

Feeling a bit like a mother bird pushing its hatchling out of the nest, the Doctor shoved again, providing Maz with an irritated, "_Go_."

The human heaved a violent sigh. "Just so you know?" he said as he made to push open the door. "I hate you."

The Doctor just grinned and waved as the man disappeared into the kitchen.

Once the door was firmly shut the Time Lord promptly pressed his ear against it, straining to hear the voices sounding from within.

It wasn't always a dignified job, saving the universe.

"Hey, Marty!"

"Maz?"

"That's right," the Doctor heard Maz gulp and add a hesitant, "old buddy. It's me. How's it going?"

There was the sound of something metallic (a spoon?) clanging against a tiled surface (the floor?).

The Doctor was just pleased that it didn't sound like Maz's head.

"You stinking pile of dung." The Time Lord jerked away from the door as a weight was slammed into it.

He was pretty sure _that_ was Maz.

"Where's my money?"

"Right," Maz sputtered. "About that-"

The Doctor could sense that the neo-human was about to get himself into trouble, and the Doctor was not one to let trouble occur without his presence.

All of that 'avoiding danger' nonsense. Where would be the enjoyment in that?

The Doctor quickly grabbed one of the bags of sugar and threw it over his shoulder. "You'll have to collect at a later date," he yelled through the door just as he properly settled the new burden of the glucose.

There was a moment of silence before the weight was yanked away and the door flung open, whereupon the Doctor was met with the form of a large man with a pot belly, ears the size of diner plates (literally) and blue skin.

Neo-humans came in all shapes, sizes and colors. The Doctor found it all terribly exciting.

"And who are you?" the blue man, Marty, snapped. "His bodyguard?"

The Doctor frowned, putting his hands in his jacket pockets and rocking on his feet, attempting to see inside the kitchen. "What would you do if I was?"

"Pound you to a pulp." He jerked his head behind him towards Maz, who was rubbing at his head after being tossed into a set of steel shelves. "Before I went on to him."

The Doctor eyed Maz critically. That didn't look too pleasant. "Then nope," he said to Marty. "Not his bodyguard. No poundage needed here." He grinned, gesturing towards the other neo-human. "Have at him." He held up a finger. "But first, do you happen to be preparing a marvilinion for the children of the nobility?"

"Yeah," Marty responded absently, turning away from the Doctor and his attention already refocused on Maz.

"And where is he?"

"Pot, over there." He pointed to the stove.

The Doctor instantly began to panic. 'Pot on the stove' did not bode well. He could be too late.

He scrambled across the room, running over to the stove as quickly as possible.

Fortunately, Marty was a bit occupied.

"You're slime, you know that?" Marty said as he towered over the other cook.

Maz shrunk against the shelves. "Look, Marty-"

"Don't you 'look' me, Maz." The larger man snapped. "It's been three months and I still haven't been paid."

The Doctor reached the stove and took the pot off of the possibly hot surface, jerking the lid off frantically and peering inside.

Curled up into a small circle was an incredibly frightened, but very much alive, adolescent marvilinion.

The Doctor heaved a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Maz was still pleading. "I know, and I'm sorry, but you know how things have been lately Marty, with all the fines and the extra neo-human taxes-"

"Cry me a river, Maz." The blue neo-human grabbed Maz by his shirt and twisted the fabric threateningly. "Now where's the money?"

"I don't have it," Maz said softly, hanging his head in defeat.

The Doctor reassured the young marvilinion and told him to stay quiet and still before placing him in his pocket, turning his full attention to the spectacle taking place at the other end of the room.

Noting a few key details (misplaced utensil (the spoon from earlier) on the floor, the open closet to the left, the outside lock, the distance between the two humans and the spoon and so on) the Doctor quickly developed a plan.

"That's unfortunate, Maz," Marty remarked, raising his fist. "Really unfortunate."

"Isn't it though?" the Doctor chimed in, striding forward.

Marty stopped mid-punch, both humans looking to the Time Lord in surprise.

He shook an admonishing finger at Maz. "Shame on you, Retallamazdos Frank Doslinicon. You really must learn how balance your checkbook."

Maz blinked at him in confusion.

"You see," the Doctor continued, addressing Marty. "I'm his accountant, actually." He dug into his pocket and flashed some psychic paper. "Just settling all of his debts before the baby comes." He stuck the paper back in his pocket, still _tut_ing.

The blue man raised his eyebrows, his hold still fast on Maz's shirt. "So you have my money then?"

The Doctor frowned thoughtfully before responding with an abrupt, "No. However," he reassured, "I do have Mr. Doslinicon's personal word of honor that you'll be receiving compensation shortly."

Marty stared blankly. "How shortly?"

The Doctor tossed his head back and forth idly. "Oh, shortly enough."

"In the next ten seconds?"

The Doctor looked expectantly to Maz.

The cook maintained his 'deer in the headlights' look.

The Time Lord turned his attention back to the blue man. "No, not that soon, I'd wager."

"Then I'd wager that the both of you are about to get the beating of your lives."

"How much?"

Marty blinked at the Doctor. "What?"

"How much would you wager?" he repeated. "Enough to get him out of debt?" He indicated Maz.

Marty rolled his eyes. "Sure. Enough to get him out of debt."

The Doctor smiled widely. "Excellent." He grabbed the bag of glucose. "And sorry."

Marty had just enough time to furrow his brow in confusion before he was smacked in the face with a rather heavy bag of glucose, the force of the blow which sent the cook flailing backwards, causing him to then trip over the spoon he had dropped earlier in the rage of seeing Maz again, which in turn made him sprawl into the open closet.

Coolly, the Doctor stepped forward, closing the door calmly and locking it manually.

And to think that Rose had said that he would be hopeless without his 'damned screwdriver' in the past. This would show her. He could lock a door just fine on his own.

"Mr. Doslinicon is now free of the debt you placed on him, sir," the Time Lord yelled into the closet. "All of his monetary obligations to you are severed."

He heard unintelligible screaming from within the closet, followed by loud bangs on the door.

"Yes," the Doctor said cheerfully, patting the door fondly. "It was a pleasure doing business with you as well. Have a nice evening!"

With that he turned to Maz. "I am a _brilliant_ accountant," he remarked happily, smiling smugly. "At least if the saving-the-universe thing doesn't pan out, I have a back-up plan."

Maz was still in a state of shock, and simply let out a bark of laughter.

"Right," the Doctor clapped his hands together and then glanced upwards. "What now?" He looked back to Maz. "Oh, that's right. This is where, if you can recall your life of adventure, we run."

Maz gave another disbelieving laugh. "I think I do remember that, yes."

With that the Doctor tossed the man the bag of sugar from over his shoulders, strode out of the kitchen, picked up the remaining bags from off the floor and began to run down the steel hallways, Maz hot on his heels.

"Do you know where the entrance hall is?" He asked the cook as they continued their brisk pace, digging into his pocket and pulling out the dazed marvilinion, who promptly attached himself to the Time Lord's wrist.

"In five corridors we take a left," Maz remarked distractedly, allowing himself another fit of laughter. "You just got me out of debt by attacking Marty with a bag of sugar!" He shook his head and chuckled again. "That was wonderful!"

The Doctor grinned. "I thought so, thanks."

"A little primitive, with your mind-exploding powers and all, but still impressive."

"Well, I don't like to show-off,' he responded automatically, thoughts far away. And if these thoughts happened to focus around the prospect of seeing a girl with brown eyes that lit up when she smiled and a face so beautiful that the stars paled in comparison, the Doctor certainly wasn't going to admit it, especially not to himself.

"So why did you do it?"

"Wanted to give a visual demonstration on the harmful effects of fats on the body," the Doctor replied while gently stroking the marvilinion, attempting to get him to release his death-grip. All the while he was imagining seeing her again, safe, in the TARDIS, ready for the next adventure.

His Rose. She was always ready for the next exciting venture.

"I meant why you got me out of debt?"

The Doctor sent the man a significant glance. "Everyone deserves a chance at a clean slate."

But never two. No second chances. One chance for redemption, one opportunity to set wrongs right. Everyone, at least, deserved that much.

The human, it seemed, didn't have much to say to that. "How about my name?" he asked finally. "How did you know that? Especially my middle name. I don't tell it to anyone." He grimaced. "I mean, who would?"

"I always did wonder about that," the Doctor admitted. "Why 'Frank'? Not terribly epic, is it?"

Maz frowned. "Epic?"

Ignoring the question and managing, at last, to get the marvilinion free, he handed the small alien to Maz. "Here, calm him down while I get the sugar ready."

"Right," the man said, awkwardly cradling the young creature in his hands as the Doctor tore at one of his glucose packets.

As the Doctor was working (getting the bag ready for easy-use), a small voice sounded from between Maz's palms.

"Where's my mother? Where did she go? And Brwlon? Where's Brwlon? What happened? They took him away!"

"W-who?" Maz stammered, bending nearer to the marvilinion as they continued to jog on.

"Brwlon, my brother Brwlon! What did they do to him?"

Maz's face paled significantly.

_They_ had eaten him. But only because Maz had killed him first.

The neo-human floundered. "I-"

"What happened to him? He'll be okay, won't he?" The marvilinion looked up to Maz with wide-eyes. "Won't he?"

The Doctor watched, painfully, as Maz seemed to take in a deep breath. "He's dead."

The marvilinion curled back in on himself, making small, sobbing noises.

"But your mother's fine!" Maz attempted to reassure him. "She's outside right now. We'll take you to her soon, you can go home."

The creature simply shook its head, large, green tears trailing down its red scales. "No! No! Brwlon can't be! Why would they do that, why would they kill him?"

Maz simply stared at the alien in his hands with a sort of unbelieving horror.

The Doctor almost felt pity for him. "You've never had to face the consequences of your actions before, have you Maz?"

The man didn't respond, but instead kept his gaze locked onto the young alien. "I'm sorry," he said as he ran a soothing finger over the red scales. "I'm so sorry."

The Doctor watched mutely as they slowed to a stop, reaching the correct corridor.

"The people you love aren't the only ones who get hurt, Maz," he said at last. "It's easy enough to forget who suffer for the cowardice of a world when no one is forced to confront it." He eyed the man seriously. "You no longer have that luxury."

Maz said nothing, but kept staring at the young creature who he had impacted, whose life he had half-destroyed.

But the Doctor didn't have the time for this now. He needed to get back. "We're here." He needed to get back to Rose. "I need to get to the TARDIS."

Maz finally looked up. "Your blue box?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Yes, my blue box." It was getting to become downright insulting how many people still read a book by it's cover.

He gestured to the marvilinion. "Can I trust you to get him out of here?"

Maz looked back to the small creature, eyes full of regret. "Yes."

The Doctor smiled gently. "Good." He clapped the man on the shoulder. "Don't forget what you saw here today, Maz. It's time for you to start questioning the world you live in, to change it." He looked down at the broken marvilinion still in the man's hands. "Because things like this shouldn't have to happen."

He began to turn the corner, an open bag of glucose in-hand and prepared to face any Laxacorvatallaion who came across his path, when he stopped abruptly, turning back to Maz in annoyance.

"And for all that is decent in this universe, get some bananas for your kitchens," he muttered. "Bananas are good."

And with that, a very confused Maz left in his wake, the Doctor hopped around the corner and into the entrance hall of the Laxacorvatallaion palace, looking forward to seeing the TARDIS, Rose and hoping that he could devise some adequate way to show the woman that he cared for deeply (but didn't love) how much she meant to him.

However, what he found was slightly different.

Leaning against the panels of the TARDIS were the two Laxacorvatallaions who had been his jailors earlier in the day, a long pole strung out between them with the bound and gagged form of Rose Tyler suspended from it, her eyes widening hopefully as she saw The Doctor.

The Doctor felt his hearts contract painfully in fear, dread sweeping through him.

He knew he should have kept her close, kept her safe.

"Hello," the orangeier of the Laxacorvatallaions said, a vindictive smile on his face. He gave the pole a small jerk, causing Rose to tense as he looked to the Doctor innocently, wrapping a thin arm more firmly about the primitive device. "Missing something?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Title**: Suspending Belief  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. -sniff-  
**Spoilers**: Pre-"Doomsday," general season two stuff included.  
**Summary**: _Rose quickly pushed down all feelings of guilt. The sight of the Doctor's pout was a powerful force, and the image of his frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers. But not this time. She was about to be _eaten_. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable._  
**Author's Notes**: No beta, not British and limited to New-Who canon knowledge. As such (in addition to my many other glaring faults) any concrit is most welcome! Thank you for your time!

--

**Part Six**

--

Rose didn't know how she always ended up in these sorts of situations. After all, she had just been going about her business freeing prisoners from the Laxacorvatallaion palace prison cells.

Upon further contemplation, maybe she did know how she ended up in these situations.

Nonetheless, the fact remained that she certainly didn't enjoy them, and this wasn't an exception. Especially since she had managed to get herself out of this same unfortunate set of circumstances an hour earlier. To be shoved back into them again just seemed cruel, and her only explanation for her current predicament was that some higher power in the universe was determined to have a hearty laugh at her expense.

Rose hadn't meant to be caught, and the fact that she had wasn't due to any lack of stealth on her part. No, had everything gone according to her plan she would have been in the TARDIS by now, nice, comfy and waiting for the Doctor to enter with a wide smile on his face, his dark eyes sparkling with glee, arms open, warm (loving), and inviting as he offered her the universe.

But instead she was, once again, suspended from a roasting pole, hanging between two very large, very grumpy, Lazacorvatallaions who had been interrupted during their lunch break to cart her in front of the TARDIS and wait for the Doctor to show up.

And none of it would have happened if the sonic screwdriver didn't have to _hum_ so damn loudly.

The trip from the cells had begun slowly, Rose needing to coax nearly all of the 27 aliens who had been released into movement, a laborious task that she would have been incapable of accomplishing on her own.

Fortunately, Lenica, the marvilinion who had asked for the Doctor's help, was a mother with ten boys, had a very short fuse and a stern tone that could make people jump to attention faster than a gun shot.

"What are you doing, sitting around like helpless fools?" she had shot briskly at the desolate group, pacing irritably across Rose's shoulders. "Staying here to die isn't going to make these past months locked in a cell go away, or bring those you love back."

By that point she had gained the attention of the creatures in the steel hallway, all turning blank and hollow eyes up at her, looking at her with a confusion bred out of helplessness.

"Live," she had said, green tears shining in her black eyes, Rose suspected thoughts of her dead son revolving through her mind. Her voice lost some of its power as one tear dropped. "Live for those you lost." Lenica paused for a pained moment and Rose brought a hand to her back, stroking the scales soothingly.

The marvilinion parted her reptilian lips in what Rose could only assume was a smile before turning resolutely to the band of outlaws once more. "And live for those who risked their lives to save you, you ungrateful lot," she snapped in that authoritative, demanding tone that only mothers could fully master. "Now come on and move. We've got a lot of ground to cover and not much time."

There was an instant's hesitation as the aliens regarded one another in the hallway, silent and unmoving.

Lenica eyed them scornfully. "_Move_!" she yelled, and in an instant everyone was on their feet, and with little wonder as to why.

It had been the first, and hopefully the last, time that Rose had been intimidated by a lizard.

Before Rose had any notion as to where exactly they were headed, the group of former prisoners had scrambled into motion, the human at a complete loss as to where she had the intention of leading them.

"That way," Lenica had said, pointing her tail down a small hallway to their left. "The closest exit should be that direction."

Rose had eyed the creature warily, peering down the passage that looked no different from any of the dozen others in their immediate vicinity. "Are you sure?"

Lenica looked at Rose sadly before turning ahead once more, determination and remorse in her stare. "Of course I'm sure. I've been thinking of escape ever since I've been put in this cell."

Rose turned away, ashamed. She was a mother whose sons had been placed in danger. She must have been plotting methods on how to break out of her prison the instant she had been separated from her children. With so much at stake, how could she not know the way to freedom?

"Now come on, dear," the marvilinion had said sternly, gesturing towards the pack of former prisoners looking around frantically in the steel hallway. "They need your help."

And with that Rose had been spurred into action, readjusting the weight of the sugar on her shoulders before she and Lenica patiently began shepherding the band of aliens to an edge of the palace complex. It must not have been far, but the journey took much longer than Rose was comfortable with, each stumbling step and small halt of progress testing her fortitude far more than the circumstances warranted.

But the Doctor had been uneasy, and his uneasiness sent Rose into an equally troubled state. The Doctor rarely became nervous without cause, and if the situation warranted such a reaction, then Rose only wanted to be one place.

Next to him.

Unfortunately, she had given herself the task of freeing these creatures, they needing her help more than he had.

And then he had told her to stay in the TARDIS, like a child being sent to her room for her own good. If he hadn't appeared to be so afraid she would have been insulted, and if it hadn't been for that obvious terror for reasons beyond her comprehension, she would have happily ignored him.

But not this time. This once, Rose Tyler would stay inside. Close the door, shut her eyes and wait for the Doctor to come home, come to her and the TARDIS, safe and sound. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but she would do it, well aware that the last time she had defied this request he had died.

So, yes. Rose Tyler would deny herself adventure and stay safe.

Or at least, that had been her plan.

When they finally reached the massive side door that marked the end of their trek, Rose had quickly set the sonic screwdriver to its proper setting and unbolted (apparently, it wasn't an often used side door) the frame, glancing over her shoulder nervously as the bolts fell out of the wall one by one.

After several minutes of struggle with Lenica urging her on from her shoulder, Rose pried the last bolt off of the door before pulling it open. It had then been a simple matter to gently shoo the 27 aliens out into the hot, red, sand of the city of Ellricion.

Once outside the creatures had looked around blearily, staring blankly at the environment surrounding them, few moving.

Rose stared on helplessly. "What's wrong with them?"

The marvilinion shook her head. "Grief. Everyone who was in that cell had lost something, or someone."

Rose studied each foreign face desperately. "There's nothing we can do for them, is there?" What could she do, for those who had lost so much to an archaic system that was so pointless, so mundane and so unnecessary? What could she possibly say to make it better?

"No," Lenica remarked, looking on sadly. "No one can do anything to help them except for themselves." She gave Rose a gentle nudge to her cheek. "Now close the door, dear. We still have work to do."

Rose looked towards the creature, frowning. "But, Lenica, you should go, get to safety, before someone comes looking-"

"Rose, I've lost one of my sons and am in danger of losing another." The marvilinion stared at her seriously. "Staying is the only way I won't end up like them." She jerked her head towards the motionless aliens in the red sand.

And Rose suddenly found that all of her protests had dried in her throat as she looked at the hopelessly lost creatures before her.

"Come on then," Lenica said soothingly, giving her cheek another nudge. "They'll be all right, given a little time. Close the and rebolt the door and let's head off to this TARDIS of yours."

Rose swallowed, attempting to eliminate the dryness, before giving a firm nod, shouldering the large bag of sugar she still carried and resolutely closing the door to the outside world.

It was only after Rose had finished reapplying half of the bolts that she heard the sounds of approaching voices.

"What do you think happened?"

"Not our problem, Larin."

Rose tensed mid-bolt, tempted to run and leave the rest of the task unfinished. But she knew that if she did that those passing would be suspicious, open the door fully and discover the shell-shocked aliens, still complacently sitting outside.

And Rose wasn't going to let them go back to their prison.

"But we left Maz with live meat and then he goes off and disappears, plus the meat's now missing and his kitchen's ransacked. Don't you feel a bit responsible?"

Rose had fumbled with the bolts in her hands, Lenica whispering encouraging words into her ear as she tried to place them in the proper locations.

"No, I feel hungry and annoyed. Now the nobles won't leave us be because we let prime meat get away from us, especially that Time Lord from the dungeons. You saw the tantrums they had! We've got months of that to look forward to thanks to Maz."

She only had three more to go, three more bolts and she could hide. There was a bench, just a few yards to her right, big enough to keep her out of sight. Just three more bolts…

"Well, the Time Lord wasn't exactly his fault, was it? And aren't you worried that something happened to him?"

"Listen, if that human's going to cause us problems because he can't do his job then I-"

There was a pause as Rose continued to work, securing the bolt in place. Two more…

"Do you hear something?"

"Hear something?" There was the sound of the shuffling of large, bulky feet. "I don't hear anything."

One more bolt.

"There!" Another shuffle, closer this time. "A _hum_. Don't you hear it?"

Rose smiled in triumph as the last bolt slid home, letting out a sigh of relief just before flinching in confusion when Lenica wrapped her tail around the sonic screwdriver, effectively snatching it from the human and scampering down her form, disappearing into the fabric of Rose's sock.

She would have wondered more at the marvilinion, had she not been addressed mere seconds later as the shuffling of feet came to a stop directly behind her.

"Look what I found, Larin."

Rose turned to be met with a familiar face.

"The lost meat."

Her former captor smiled unpleasantly, his partner walking up behind him, a shocked expression on his face.

And that was how Rose Tyler got captured by the Laxacorvatallaions the second time.

From there it was a simple matter of her two Laxacorvatallaion guards ridding her of the sugar, finding another pole, some more glucose chains and a gag before dragging her back to the TARDIS, which was still in the dining hall. There they waited, knowing it was the one place that the Doctor would have to return to eventually.

So yes, she had been captured. But it hadn't been her fault in the slightest.

All the technology in all of the universe at his fingertips, and he couldn't make a silent sonic screwdriver.

She was going to be certain to have a serious chat about that with him later.

If there was a later, of course. However, as of that moment that prospect was looking doubtful, Rose quickly losing hope of making it out of the situation alive.

And to think she had every intention of hiding inside of the TARDIS. No matter how well intending her aims, it seemed as if she was doomed to end up risking her life no mater which course of action she took.

And if that were the case, then this would certainly be the last time that she would agree to stay 'safe.' While running for her life was all well and good, being tied up as bait wasn't nearly as exhilarating. In fact, it was terrifying in the purest sense, helpless in every way with nothing to do but wait for rescue.

At least when she was with the Doctor, actively fighting the good fight with him by her side, she could _do_ something.

And the experience, the company, the man, was more than worth the danger.

The man who had just walked around the corner, whose eyes had just locked with hers and whose mere presence had lifted her hopes and spirits, allowing her to contemplate the possibility that she just might survive this latest adventure of theirs.

Life with the Doctor was many things, but no one could ever say that it was dull.

She could all but see the Time Lord evaluating the situation, eyeing the two Laxacorvatallaions before moving his gaze back to Rose, no doubt noting her limited mobility.

"Hello," one of the aliens, Zel, said, smiling. He jerked the pole, making Rose flinch as he looked to the Doctor innocently. "Missing something?"

The Doctor scowled and took a step nearer. "Let her go."

Zel's large lips twisted further as he tightened his grip on the pole. "I don't think you're in much of a position to be making demands."

The Time Lord's glare intensified. "If you've hurt her-"

"She's fine," Larin, the other Laxacorvatallaion said quickly.

"But she won't be if you give us any trouble," Zel added dramatically, Rose catching Larin rolling his eyes from behind him.

At least she wasn't the only one who found Zel's constant threats a bit excessive.

"What do you want?" the Doctor asked.

"For you to be a good plate of dessert and make yourself a real pretty dish on the way to the kitchens," Zel replied happily.

"You really expect me to do that?" The Time Lord snorted. "Meekly waltz to my death?"

"Well, if you don't want to see her die, then yes." The dark orange Laxacorvatallaion shifted his feet in irritation. "Granted, she _should_ be dead already."

"Maz," Larin remarked with a sigh. "Even if he's not to blame we really should cut his benefits."

"He needs to get fired is what needs to happen," Zel muttered, turning to look back at his partner.

It was then that Rose felt the odd lump in her sock move.

"Zel, you know how tough it is for the humans-"

"Not you too."

Lenica scampered out of Rose's sock, coughing quietly with a pained look on her face.

Well, Rose had done a lot of running today. Her socks would not be the most pleasant of environments to spend a half hour in, a fact that Lenica was showcasing admirably through the accusing reptilian scowl being sent Rose's way.

"What?"

"Don't feel _sorry_ for them. They're intruding on our planet!"

Both of the Laxacorvatallaions engrossed by their argument, Lenica was able to carefully pull the sonic screwdriver out of Rose's sock, squinting at the settings and adjusting them accordingly without any notice being taken.

Except by the Doctor, who shifted his eyes to the marvilinion momentarily before returning his stare to Rose, sending her a small smile.

They loved making new friends.

"Doesn't mean they don't have rights."

"It does if their rights infringe on my privileges as a full-blood Laxacorvatallaion," Zel snapped back, clearly annoyed.

By that point Lenica had broken the sugar binding Rose's ankles, her feet jerking from the pole and causing both Laxacorvatallaions to pause in their argument.

"Gentlemen!" the Doctor yelled quickly, before either alien could look to Rose. "Focus, please. You have my companion dangling from a stick and about to be diner for your nobility. Anything we can do to change that?"

Lenica had made her way to Rose's wrists, dragging the sonic screwdriver along behind her.

"No," Zel replied irritably. "But I'll tell you what we can do." He smiled spitefully. "You can come with us, hop into the pot we've got ready for you and we'll be sure to kill her properly before we set her to a boil."

Lenica pressed the button on the sonic screwdriver, the sugar bonds slowly breaking.

"Do we have an agreement?"

It was in that instant that Rose fell with an unbecoming _oof_ to the floor, scrambling to her feet within seconds, snagging the sonic screwdriver pointing it towards her captors, Lenica scowling from her shoulder.

She tugged the gag out of her mouth without lowering the screwdriver. "No," she ground out, glaring with all the fires of hell in her stare. "We don't."

The Laxcorvatallaions dropped the pole dumbly, each taking a small step back as Rose continued to glare at them, the two obviously rather petrified by a human girl half their size with only a screwdriver to defend herself.

And just as well they should be.

Rose Tyler was angry.

"I am _tired_ of people ignoring my presence, talking about me like I'm a slab of meat and trying to cook me! I refuse to be a seven course meal for a bunch of fat, foul and stupid nobles-"

"Now who's being rude?" the Doctor chimed in from behind her, obviously amused.

"-who you lot follow out of a twisted sense of history." She gave the sonic screwdriver a violent shake. "You got that?"

They were shocked to stillness for a moment more before Zel smiled.

"No," he remarked calmly, taking a step closer to her. "I can't say we do."

"Rose!" the Doctor yelled from several yard behind her, running forward. "Don't let him touch you!

By the time he had uttered the sentence Zel had wrapped his long, thin, fingers around her forearm, and it took all of Rose's willpower not to scream.

The sound and smell of searing flesh came to her, followed closely by a burning, stinging pain that seemed to work its way in from the flesh to the bone, registering in her very marrow and making her muscles seize painfully within her scorched skin.

It hurt, so much so that she didn't think to wrench her arm away, couldn't process any thought or action more complicated than an instant reaction to the pain, her mouth opening widely in a silent scream as she registered the sensation of her arm set aflame from within.

But in the next instant the Doctor was at her side, hefting a bag of sugar and drenching her captor in its contents, throwing more onto Larin behind Zel and quickly tugging Rose away from the Laxcorvatallaion's grip.

She heard them scream and moan as the Doctor pulled her gently but rapidly along, one arm wrapped around her back and the other firmly gripping her undamaged arm, guiding her along blindly, Rose too wrapped up in the consistent waves of pain shooting down her limb to take any real note of where they were or where they were headed.

That had _hurt_.

They came to a stop suddenly, Rose backing herself against a wall and clutching her arm to her chest, hissing in pain while slowly sinking down to the floor, feeling tears form at the corners of her eyes.

Who knew that the Laxcorvatallaions packed such a powerful punch?

"Rose, I know it hurts and I can help," the Doctor was saying from somewhere above her, able to feel his face hovering close to hers. "But I need you to let go of the sonic screwdriver and to stay still, all right?"

It was only then that Rose realized that the fingers of her burnt arm had clamped around the screwdriver in a vice-like grip and that she was slowly rocking back and forth on the steel floor.

Nodding, she forcibly stopped the rocking and concentrated on lessening the hold on the Doctor's device, letting out a whimper when the fingers unclenched and an intensified wave of agony swept through the entire limb.

Then the Doctor was there, cradling her injured arm with one hand while setting the sonic screwdriver with another, eventually feeling the cool press of the screwdriver against her wrist.

It felt like forever, but within moments the pain began to slowly fade, a mildly unpleasant tingling sensation replacing the burning ache.

In comparison to what had come before it, the annoying tingling was downright pleasant.

She took in a deep breath, finally daring to open her eyes and feeling one traitorous tear fall down a cheek.

The Doctor was kneeling in front of her, worry etched into his every feature as regarded her carefully, his concern shining through his eyes and making him look every bit of his nine hundred years.

"Ouch," she said with what she hoped was a winning grin, aiming to ease some of his worry.

She hated to see him suffer.

"Oh, Rose," he said, bringing a hand to her face and wiping away the tear that was making it slow progress to her chin. "I'm so sorry."

"'Sall right," she reassured quickly, maintaining the grin and forcing herself not to lean into his soothing touch, to relish the feeling of his fingers against her skin.

That imagination, getting her into trouble again.

"Nothing the sonic screwdriver couldn't fix, right?"

The Doctor sighed, rubbing removing his hand from her face and rubbing it through his hair. "Not quite." He gestured to her arm.

Rose looked down to see the imprints of Zel's fingers scorched into her skin, the flesh an angry red with blisters quickly breaking out. It was a sign to how much pain she had been in moments before that she hadn't even registered this lesser annoyance. "Oh," she remarked, examining the wound. "Well that will make a nice battle scar, given a few months."

The Doctor sent her a severe look before taking her arm in his hands.

She sighed. "It's fine, Doctor, really."

"Well it very nearly wasn't, was it?" he grumbled, sounding irritated as he took off his tie and tore the fabric. Rose pretended not to notice the small tremor in his fingers as he worked.

She knew he wasn't mad, not really. He was scared.

And with a start Rose realized what had terrified the Doctor so thoroughly, during this particular adventure. It hadn't been the aliens or the planet or the brewing revolution that had sent him into a frantic state.

It had been the thought of losing her.

"How is it that you always manage to get into trouble, again?" the Doctor muttered as he gave his tie another rip, widening the cloth.

Rose shook herself (she had had enough of her own delusions) and glared at him. Scared or not, she wasn't going to take the blame for his flawed craftsmanship.

"It wasn't my fault they caught me!" She motioned towards the sonic screwdriver resting on the floor. "Ever thought to give that thing a mute button?"

The Doctor's brow furrowed. "What? No! And lose that lovely _hum_?" He looked up, a perplexed expression on his face. "Why would anyone want to do that?" He pouted a bit. "It's such a nice little _hum_."

"Except when it gets you captured by Laxcorvatallaions who make bones hurt for sport," Rose muttered. "I thought they weren't dangerous, besides the whole eating people thing," she added after a pause, frowning. "They don't even have weapons."

"They don't have weapons because they don't need them," the Time Lord replied glumly as he brought the fabric of his former tie to Rose's arm, wrapping the wound.

"Well you could've told me that," Rose mumbled. "Would have rethought the whole 'threatening them with a screwdriver' plan."

The Doctor shrugged helplessly. "I thought it was obvious." He gave her a confounded expression. "Exactly how long have you been traveling with me anyway? I thought it would be pretty clear to you by this point that just about everything is dangerous."

"They could just be peaceful and primitive, how am I to know?"

He snorted, shaking his head grimly. "Their technology is incredibly advanced, anything they don't have isn't for lack of ability or desire, but for lack of necessity." He finished tying off the fabric, sending her a sardonic look. "Just because the nobility are stupid doesn't mean their scientists are."

"So why don't they need weapons then?" Rose asked, nodding to her arm. "What did Zel do?"

The Doctor rubbed at his eye, leaning back on his heels. "Laxcorvatallaions can render the heat receptors in their skin at will, basically reversing the receptor and turning it into an emitter while simultaneously channeling massive amounts of radiation. The radiation is harmless to most creatures native to this planet, but deadly to humans, and painful. Luckily, I was able to use the sonic screwdriver to remove the radiation from your bones." He locked his eyes with her, expression serious, concerned, and he brought his hand to her uninjured one, entwining his fingers through hers. "If he had maintained contact with you for much longer, you'd be dead."

Rose maintained his stare, a wave a fear rolling through her. If it wasn't for the Doctor's grip on her hand, anchoring her to reality, to the fact that she was alive, that she had survived and that he was with her, she might have been incapable of shaking it.

He jerked his head, indicating her arm. "Let me see."

She shook her head, pulling her fingers out of his and attempting to deny the fact that she was sad for the loss.

"It's fine."

The Doctor scowled, gently nabbing her arm and sending her a reproachful look. "Who's the Doctor?"

Rose rolled her eyes as he carefully rotated her wrist and gently pressed and prodded various muscles.

"You aren't as funny as you think you are, you know."

"Yes I am," he replied, eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth. "You're just mad because people keep wanting to cook you."

"It ruins a girl's day, okay?" she muttered before wincing as he found a sore spot.

"How bad is it?"

"It's fine," she said, shaking him off.

Sometimes she swore he was like a mother hen without the apron.

"Don't we have bigger things to deal with right now? Like getting to the TARDIS?"

"You're injured."

Rose blinked. "My arm's burnt."

He grinned. "A possibly fatal condition in the right set of circumstances, I'll have you know." There was a pause as his tone lost some of its mocking quality. "You come first, Rose."

She frowned, puzzled by this declaration, considering the Time Lord seriously. "I do?"

She wasn't supposed to come first, was she? There was the memory of his dead planet and people, his duties as a Time Lord, as a defender of the Earth and any other of his many adopted planets. There was the universe to consider, the innocent and the needy, the societies that craved to be saved and the obligation to work on behalf of the greater good for all of existence.

Surely, amongst all that, Rose should be the least of his concerns.

Was the Doctor, the Oncoming storm and last of the Time Lords, allowed to put Rose Tyler, shopgirl from London, first?

From his widened eyes and the way the Doctor visibly shook himself, she seriously doubted he knew the answer.

"Right, things to do," he said as he jumped to his feet. "The sugar will stop them for a bit, and give them horrible blisters, but they happen to be writhing in the space directly in front of the TARDIS. A bit discourteous of them, I must say." He sighed dramatically. "And then the sugar will wear off once they manage to rinse it and they'll likely just stand there. Quite inconvenient."

Rose stood up more slowly, brushing dirt off of her jeans. "How are we going to get them to move, then?"

"Distract them obviously," the Doctor supplied, beginning to pace.

"With what?" Rose asked. "They aren't morons, as we've already established. One of us can't just go carting off into the TARDIS without them noticing."

"Unless we can provide them with an excellent distraction." He glanced at her without stopping his pacing, _tut_ing. "Are you sure that you've been listening, Rose?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Fine, we need a distraction," she said, thinking it best to humor him. When he got set on an idea, the Doctor was hard to deter. "And what exactly could that distraction be?"

"We can help," a voice chimed in from the ground.

Rose looked down to find Lenica staring up at the Time Lord, her presence having been forgotten in the disorder of Rose's injury.

She felt intensely ashamed for having dismissed so easily the person who had saved her life.

Lenica continued to address the Doctor. "The others you released would, I don't doubt, be more than willing to assist, as would I, if I was certain that my son is safe."

"He is," the Doctor reassured the marvilinion, ending his pacing. "Being taken outside of the palace as we speak," he said, obviously distracted by his thoughts.

Lenica let out a small sigh, followed by a firm nod. "Then I would be happy to aid you as well."

Rose waited, looking from the marvilinion to the Doctor, noting the Time Lord's contemplative expression.

He wasn't actually considering…

"How far do you think they got?"

Rose could do nothing more than stare in shock.

"The state that they were in?" Lenica asked. "Not very far, I imagine."

Rose stepped forward, frowning. "Doctor-"

"We've no sugar left and Zel and Larin will call for back-up." He turned to her, a determined expression on his face. "We need reinforcements."

"No," she said, looking at him frantically. "We can't." She crossed her arms, tone angry. "They just got out of here, we can't ask them to come back to help us!"

"We can ask," the Doctor said, resolute. "Whether or not they chose to help us is up to them."

"We can't do that to them, not after what they've been through!"

"And what's that?" Lenica piped up, climbing up the Doctor's leg to rest on his shoulder, staring down at Rose with an angry set to her features. "How many of us do you think have lost someone because of the Laxacorvatallaions?" she demanded. "How many children, parents and friends do you think have died throughout the decades?"

Rose considered the marvilinion with a dawning comprehension. "You want revenge."

The thought chilled her to the bone.

"Yes," Lenica responded coldly, staring at Rose without shame. "Wouldn't you?"

Rose thought about being a parent, of the love and affection that was infused into the bond and the pain that would result should such a bond be violently severed.

And she found that she didn't know how to respond.

"We can't let them risk their lives," Rose finally said. "Their freedom-"

"That's our choice," Lenica said, tone softening somewhat. "Not yours, Rose."

"We can't stop them," the Doctor added, looking at her sadly. "And we don't have the right to deny them the opportunity to fight."

Rose shook her head in disbelief. "But there has to be another way-"

The Doctor brought a hand to her shoulder. "We have no choice, Rose."

She lowered her head, not wanting to admit it, but knowing that he was right.

"I hate this," she muttered, still staring at the floor.

Innocents shouldn't have to be placed in danger on their behalf, shouldn't have to give up the liberties they had just regained.

The Doctor's other hand made it to her remaining shoulder and he rested his forehead against hers, whispering a saddened, "I know," into her ear.

There was comfort in knowing that the Doctor enjoyed this prospect as much as she did.

But he, Rose suspected, had long since learned that there was always a price to be paid in doing what was necessary. It was a harsh truth that she herself was more reluctant to accept.

Within a few moments they were moving again, Lenica perched on the Doctor's shoulder and Rose clinging to his hand as they raced down the steel hallways, rapidly making their way to the exit that she had been captured at less than an hour ago.

She couldn't wait to arrive, to better recall the fond memories.

They were just beginning to pick up speed when she saw a scrawny, slightly bent and balding form appearing in the distance.

Was that…?

"Maz!" the Doctor shouted gleefully, causing the man to spin around rapidly, shielding something cupped in his hands as he looked about.

It took a moment, and he had to push his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, but Rose could hear the man's groan when he recognized them.

"Wonderful. You two again." He positively glared at them. "I thought I was free of you."

The Doctor slowed to a stop, smiling cheerfully. "Oh, you are." He crossed his arms and leaned against the hallway wall, refusing to relinquish his hold on Rose's hand, but apparently readying himself for a comfortable talk. "Just popping in for a quick check-up and chat. How are you? Still cooking people?"

Maz sent the Time Lord a baffled look, blinking blankly. "I just saw you twenty minutes ago."

"Doesn't mean I can't ask after you, does it?"

Rose sighed, tugging on the Doctor's arm. "Doctor, those Laxacorvatallaions will be recovering from the sugar soon." She sent a sideways glance to Maz, who flushed and looked down to the floor. The Doctor's glib comments aside, was the neo-human truly ashamed? "Is now really the time?"

"Suppose not," he replied, sulking a bit. He heaved a large breath of air and shrugged. "Well, looks like we'll have to catch up later. Stay healthy." He waved goodbye to the neo-human, preparing to charge ahead once more, his grip on Rose's hand tightening. "And don't forget about the bananas!"

"Wait," Lenica said from the Doctor's shoulder, causing him to stop suddenly. The marvilinion's eyes were locked on Maz's cupped hands. "What do you have in there?"

"Oh, right." The Doctor slapped himself on the head. "Maz, this is the Lenica. She's the mother of the marvilinion you're taking care of." He turned to Lenica. "Lenica, this is Maz, the cook for the Laxacorvatallaion nobility who is taking your son to the exit and safety."

Lenica's eyes widened, and she looked at the neo-human with what could only be described as pure loathing and hate. "The _cook_?"

The Doctor winced, turning to Rose and whispering, "In retrospect, I should have left 'cook' out of my description."

"Get your hands _off_ my son, you murderer!" Lenica screamed, the sound huge and intimidating, echoing off of the walls and becoming all the more powerful for it, if no less discrete.

Rose eyed the surrounding area in fear. Guards could come after them at any moment, summoned by the sounds, and having experienced what the Laxacorvatallaions were capable of, she was not looking forward to a repeat performance of her encounter with Zel.

Maz backed away slowly, expression sorrowful and full of regret. "I'm so sorry-"

"_Sorry_ won't bring my Brwlon back," she snapped. "Now let him go!"

"Stop!" Rose yelled, standing in between the two parties and glaring at both of them, her hand still clenched in the Doctor's, the Time Lord seemingly unwilling to release her, even for a moment.

She turned to Lenica. "Maz did play a hand in what happened to Brwlon, but without him the Doctor wouldn't have been able to free your other son."

After all, there was no way that the Doctor would have been capable of finding Marty without the other cook's help.

"It doesn't excuse what he did," she said, shooting the neo-human a disapproving look, which nearly made him flinch. "But we don't have the time for this now. If we wait around here much longer we _will_ be caught and we'll all die, making the sacrifices and successes of today meaningless." She regarded Lenica seriously. "There's a time and a place for revenge, Lenica. This isn't it."

The marvilinion returned her stare levelly, shifting her gaze to Maz. "Fine," she muttered at last, keeping the man pinned with her stare. "But he lets go of my son and he comes with us."

"What?" Maz asked, frowning as he shifted his gaze from Lenica to Rose. "Why should I come with you?"

"Because we're not done here and I don't want you to go slithering off into the night," Lenica all but spat at him. "You are not going to get away with murdering my child, cook. Now let my son go."

Maz, wisely, kept his mouth shut and did as he was told, quickly handing the young marvilinion to Rose (who put the young creature in her hoodie pocket), and meekly lowering his gaze to the floor once more.

Rose observed him critically, confused. This was a far cry from the man who had justified himself at every turn mere hours ago. Something had changed during the neo-human's trip with the Doctor.

Maz had learned of shame.

There was a moment of awkward silence, with Lenica still glaring at Maz, Maz still staring and the floor and Rose shifting her gaze between the two of them, certain that the sheer tension of the situation would shatter the uneasy truce at any instant.

The Doctor, however, was oblivious.

"Right then," he said, smiling broadly. "No time to lose. Now that's settled, let's go, shall we?" With that he grabbed Maz by the collar and tugged on Rose's hand, dragging the odd group of companions down the steel hallway.

Well, Rose thought bitterly, no one ever said that escape from certain death would be easy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title**: Suspending Belief  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. sniff  
**Spoilers**: Pre-"Doomsday," with smatterings of season two thrown in.  
**Summary**: _Rose quickly pushed down all feelings of guilt. The sight of the Doctor's pout was a powerful force, and the image of his frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers. But not this time. She was about to be _eaten_. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable._  
**Author's Notes**: Not cool enough to be British, not old-school enough to know canon and although people keep offering, the story's almost done, so no beta. (Next time around though... If I ever write again it's going to be the most beta-ed thing on the planet, mark my words.) As such, any concrit is always welcomed. Thank you for your time!

--

**Part Seven**

--

The Doctor felt decidedly awkward for reasons completely unrelated to the furious marvilinion on his shoulder, the guilt-ridden neo-human he was dragging by the collar or the presence of Rose Tyler's hand clasped in his.

Although it might have had something to do with the fact that all the while he was restraining every urge that begged him to touch the rest of her.

Not that he wanted to touch the rest of her, mind. That was just the lingering effects of the sugar making him _think_ that he wanted to touch the rest of her.

Yep. Powerful, crafty thing, that sugar.

But no. Even that wasn't enough to make the Doctor truly anxious or uncomfortable in any way. He found of these little extra quirks of this particular adventure to be rather interesting new stimuli that made racing down the elaborate series of steel hallways all the more fascinating. (Really, keeping one's balance while tugging an extra body along was a most challenging process.)

He just felt horribly ill at ease without a tie.

He had gone without before, all unbuttoned and untied, unrestrained and undone, and had felt perfectly comfortable. But today, with the running, the sugar, the need to delicately meddle with history and the shopgirl from London who had suddenly taken on a new level of interest for the Doctor, the tight restraint of his tie secure around his neck had been a welcome reminder.

So, today had been, without question, a tie day.

But now there was no tie. The tie that was supposed to remind him of his duties and responsibilities was wrapped around Rose's burnt arm, hiding her blistering flesh and keeping it relatively safe from alien infection.

Relatively. Because the longer she stayed out in the foreign air the more likely she would be to become ill, the sort of 'ill' that her pure human cells would be incapable of recovering from. Not that she should have been injured to begin with. Were things right in the universe, the way they were meant to be, then she would be back at home now, safe and sans painful injuries of any sort. She didn't belong here, running for her life and in danger in more ways than he could count, and she certainly shouldn't be placed in such risk.

And the fact that she was, he knew, was entirely his fault.

He never should have let her leave him, never allowed her to put herself in peril, never asked her to stay with him at Christmas, never should have let her take in the Vortex to save him and never should have grabbed her hand on that bridge over a year ago.

Because one of these days the Doctor was going to lose her, just like he had lost everyone else. She would be hurt, killed or left, and that was a fate that she certainly didn't deserve.

And, even if he refused to admit it, in some buried corner of his mind the Doctor wasn't positive that he would be capable of sustaining the loss of her.

Of course, he had more immediate concerns to deal with, like the furious marvilinion on his shoulder, the guilt-ridden neo-human he was dragging by the collar, the angry aliens out to cook them and the escaped prisoners he was racing towards, but the Doctor's thoughts kept straying to her.

He tried to ignore it, thoroughly convincing himself it was because of the sugar he had ingested hours earlier and the lack of his restricting tie that made him incapable of ceasing to hold Rose's hand.

Rather inconvenient, as he was certain that he was going to need that hand, some time later in the evening. It was a shame, really. Sugar and a tie would become the source of the last of the Time Lord's great down falling.

A bit disappointing, truth be told. The Doctor was hoping he'd merit a small army, at least. Maybe an advanced and mutated subspecies, or a horrific natural disaster of some sort, but not something so simple as this. Not something so human.

He had never believed that holding on to Rose Tyler could one day be the death of both of them.

So, he thought as he continued racing down the hallway, nearing their destination, why couldn't he let her go?

A quandary best left for another day. One when he wasn't running for his life, helping to liberate a planet or without his tie.

Which meant, if he was lucky, that the Doctor would never have to think of it, should his nine hundred-year trend continue.

Excellent.

Having come to the conclusion that he could happily avoid thinking about his feelings towards Rose Tyler forever, and suddenly facing a large bolted door, the Doctor ceased to ponder anything more immediate than escape.

Step one, unbolt the door.

The Doctor ground to a halt, causing all other members of his party to jerk unpleasantly as they ceased movement.

Lenica glared at him from his shoulder, her tail tightening around his neck.

Who needed ties anyway?

"Was that really necessary?" she asked, obviously irritated.

"Nope," the Doctor replied as he released Maz, pulling out the screwdriver. "But it serves as a fine test for your reflexes. Just think, the next time you find yourself with a need to cling to something for dear life, you'll be prepared." He focused on the door, pressing a button on the sonic screwdriver with his one free hand. "Just readying you for the dangers ahead, Lenica." He threw her a quick, winning grin. "I'd be grateful."

She stared blankly at him. "I _can_ strangle you."

Maybe the grin hadn't been as winning as he had hoped, then.

"What are you doing?" Maz asked from the Doctor's side, attempting to peer over the shoulder Lenica didn't occupy. "Trying to blast the door open?" He nodded to the screwdriver. "It won't work, steel's too strong."

"Boys," Rose muttered, her warm fingers still entwined comfortably in the Doctor's. "Always trying to find a way to blow things up instead of just opening them."

Maz frowned. "Opening them?" He turned to the Doctor. "Does that thing do that too?"

"Oh yeah," the Doctor responded quickly, happy to boast.

He loved his sonic screwdriver.

"Opens all sorts of things. Repairs too. Doors, locks, barbed wire. You name it and the sonic screwdriver can open, fix or calibrate it."

There was a moment of silence in which the Doctor continued to concentrate on the bolts of the door, broken with Maz's hissed, "_Screwdriver_?"

Oops.

He made out the distinct sound of Rose's suppressed snort from behind him.

"You've been keeping me captive with a _screwdriver_?" the neo-human all but spat out.

The Doctor tugged out another bolt, handing it to Rose, trying his hand at another winning grin. "And my brain, yep." He turned back to the door. "Although, in all fairness, it's not your typical screwdriver, is it? If you had to be held captive by a screwdriver at all, it's best that it was done by this one, right?"

He handed Rose another bolt, his companion snagging it distractedly as she tried to smoother her snickering in the shoulder of his jacket.

"It's a screwdriver!" Maz yelled.

A strangled chuckle came from Rose, followed quickly by a mangled cough.

The Doctor heard Maz grounding his teeth together.

Honestly, he couldn't take the girl anywhere.

The Doctor looked away from the door and faced the neo-human, holding up the screwdriver in front of Maz proudly. "But it's sonic!"

Maz stared at the Doctor, incredulous for a second before turning on his heel. "I'm leaving."

"Look, Maz," Rose began. "I'm sorry, _we're_ sorry-"

"You're staying right here, cook," Lenica interrupted smoothly, in a tone that did not allow for argument.

Maz halted instantly.

"We still have a score to settle." She stared at the man's back coldly. "Leave, and you'll live long enough to regret it."

And although the words were coming out of the mouth of a lizard-like creature, not even the size of the Doctor's forearm, the Time Lord had no doubt that she had the full capacity and will to carry out such a threat.

A mother who has had her child stolen from her is a powerful, terrifying, force within the universe.

Maz, it seemed, realized this as well.

His shoulders slumped as he brought a hand to his face, letting out a sigh before turning around once more, taking slow measured steps back to the group.

"Fine," he said, staring at the floor. "I'll stay."

The Doctor regarded the cook with a growing respect. For a man who mere hours ago had firmly believed that he had been doing nothing more than what was necessary, who had ignored the consequences of his actions entirely in favor of doing what was easy, and who had never bothered to consider the effects his actions had on the innocents forced into his path, he was now accepting, however reluctantly, responsibility for his actions.

Because Maz could very easily run away. Yes, Lenica might be able to find him should he leave, but there was no guarantee, and if he ran now the neo-human would have a very large chance of being able to never face the penalty for what he had done. He could flee, continue to bask in his willful ignorance and never give the young marvilinion he had killed another thought in his long life.

But instead he was standing his ground, risking his life and the safety of his family by joining those who he had been ordered to kill.

The Doctor smiled as he unscrewed another bolt, giving it to Rose.

It seemed that Maz wasn't wasting his one chance at redemption. Fortunate too, as the Doctor really hadn't been looking forward to ruining forever the reputation of a man before he had even begun to scratch at his full potential.

Especially this particular man.

It was yet another example of the foolhardy and brilliant qualities of humanity, capable of showing such cowardice and courage, all within the span of a few small hours. The strangest thing, courage. It could be found in the most unexpected of places.

The Doctor grinned happily at the thought, tugging out the last of the bolts before turning back to the group. "Good man, Maz."

The neo-human frowned at that, giving the Time Lord a speculative look. "Me? Honestly?"

"Welll," the Doctor said, drawing out the word as he put the sonic screwdriver away. "You're getting there."

Maz rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks."

The Doctor grinned again, purposefully ignoring the sarcasm as he replied with a cheerful. "You're welcome! Now then," he turned to Rose, tightening his hold on her fingers. "Let's re-introduce ourselves, shall we?"

She nodded, returning his smile, although there was a hint of sadness in it, the Doctor knowing that she still didn't approve of what they were doing. "Let's."

With that they slowly pulled the door open, the Doctor looking out to see the red sand of Ellricon staring back at him, along with the eyes of thirty-odd aliens, sitting around lifelessly on the ground.

"Hello again," the Doctor said, eyeing the group with interest. "I can see that you lot have yet to master the 'be free' concept."

"Why don't you leave?" Rose asked from his side, tone desperate.

Poor Rose. Knowing her, she had likely hoped that the prisoners would be gone.

"You've escaped, go home," she said. "Get away while you still can, before you're captured again."

"Leave to what?" one of the large, bear-like creatures (a belikfest from the Scarlet galaxy. _Great_ brewers, but nasty tempers) asked from his spot close to the doorway, gazing at the sand bellow him as if the effort of lifting his head to look at them would require too much effort. "There's nothing left to go to."

"Nothing left to go to?"

The Doctor looked toward Maz, suddenly at this side, head peeking through the doorway and staring at the belikfest scornfully.

"You've got your families, your homes." He laughed bitterly, glaring at the Doctor and Rose, but pointedly refusing to look at Lenica. "That's plenty to leave for." He lowered his voice, muttering, "It's what I'd being doing if I was given the choice."

"My family's dead and my home's been taken for the natives," the creature replied, lifting his head a fraction to stare blankly at the neo-human. "There's nothing."

The Doctor regarded the creature with pity. He knew what it felt like, to have everything that mattered taken from you. He opened his mouth to apologize, to tell him how sorry he was, but before he could speak Maz was yelling, the Doctor turning quickly to the man.

"So you're going to do what? Die then?" Maz shook his head, looking at the creature in confusion. "They've killed or taken the things you care about the most and you're just letting them?"

"Oh, but you'd be quick to make a protest yourself then, would you?" Lenica shot from the Doctor's shoulder, the Time Lord's head snapping from speaker to another.

A person could get whiplash, keeping this up.

"If they touched my family I certainly wouldn't be moping about it," Maz shot back, looking at the marvilinion in the eye for the first time, vigor making him forget his guilt. "I'd be tearing down the palace walls in a heartbeat."

"As if you could, as if it were that simple," Lenica said angrily, glaring at the human.

"She's right," a voice said from outside, a willowy woman with limbs the size of fingers and large eyes standing up. (She was a flightly, a quickly dying race and she was a very, very far way from home.) "You, us. We can't do anything, not here."

Maz finally stepped out from behind the Doctor, shouldering himself outside and addressing the former prisoners. "You can defend and protect the people you care about."

Rose tugged on the Doctor's hand, pulling him down towards her, her breath fluttering against his cheek.

The Doctor refused to do anything so undignified as to shiver.

"What does he think he's doing?" she asked whispering, gaze filled with wonder as she looked upon the scene.

The Doctor watched the neo-human with pride. "He's inspiring them."

Rose shook her head, obviously speculative. "I didn't think Maz could do that."

The Doctor grinned. "No one did."

She frowned, opening her mouth to question him, but he quickly interrupted.

"And what have I told you about suspending belief, hm?"

He felt more than saw Rose's eye roll as he looked back to the neo-human, trying to ignore the feel of her pressed against him in the doorway.

Not that he was distracted by it, mind. The Doctor didn't get the least bit distracted by human girls from London. Not even the smart, beautiful, fantastic ones.

Nope. Not at all.

Was the glucose out of his system yet? It really was getting to become a bit of a bother.

"You can fight in the name of those you've lost, remember them by seeing to it that their lives weren't given in vain," Maz said, regarding his audience critically, several stirring, looking up from the ground and staring at the man with the wire glasses and balding hair. "Make sure those who dared to harm them are punished for it."

"Words."

The Doctor looked to his shoulder where Lenica still stood, the marvilinion staring harshly at Maz as the man spun to look at her.

"They mean nothing. It's your actions that matter." She met his eyes. "They are what have spoken for you."

Maz looked away, ashamed, form slumping.

Until Lenica spoke again. "But he's right." She looked to the band of released prisoners, Maz straitening and staring up to her in confusion. "If you've got no reason to leave that means you _do_ have reason to stay." Her lips contorted in an ugly fashion. "Look what they've done to you. They've defeated you." There was a slight pause. "You're worthless."

The Doctor's head jerked slightly as he studied Lenica, the marvilinion looking on to the group coldly before giving a small, barely noticeable, nervous glance to the Doctor.

Oh.

Oh, that was _brilliant_.

"Lenica-," Rose began, stepping around the Doctor to look at the alien, starting slightly as she too caught a glimpse of the marvilinion's uncertainty.

But in the next instant cold façade was back.

"Look at them, Rose!" she yelled, turning back to the group and scampering off of the Doctor's shoulder and onto the ground. "They've had what the loved killed and now they're sitting about, doing nothing, waiting for someone to take their hands and lead them back to a home they no longer have."

Rose and the Doctor exchanged a quick glance, the Doctor raising his eyebrows expectantly before Rose's face brightened with understanding.

Play-acting could be so much fun.

"It's not our fault that this has happened to us!" the belikfest shouted, standing up, getting angry.

_Feeling_.

"Not our fault that we've lost everything!" he continued.

"There's no point in it anymore," another marvilinion, this one green, yelled from the crowd. "What are we to do? We've got no say, no choice in what happens to us."

The Doctor's head shot up and he located the creature, staring at him seriously as he gave the alien his full attention. "There's always a choice."

The marvilinion gulped.

"He's right," Maz said, addressing the crowd once more. "You've," he paused. "_I've_, just chosen to do nothing. To sit back and do as we're told, accept the situation that's been handed to us." He swept his gaze over the small crowd. "But that doesn't mean that we've had to."

"And who are you then, to be preaching to us?" asked the flightly, speculative as she crossed her thin arms over her chest.

Maz faltered, opening and closing his mouth dumbly, almost ready to respond and say something that would, undoubtedly, be decidedly stupid

Fortunately, the Doctor knew better than to allow the guilt-ridden cook undo all of the progress he had just made.

Sometimes the Doctor seriously wondered how the typical person could function without his presence there to keep them in line and save their world every now and again. Really, he should start demanding a salary.

"A friend." The Doctor said quickly, stepping forward and outside, dragging Rose with him.

Was he still holding on to her then? Funny, that he didn't even notice. Like it was natural that he should be grasping onto her hand, as if she belonged there, with him.

The Doctor paused. Now there was a dangerous thought.

Fortunately, he still had his cleverly devised plan that allowed him not think about such things. After all, he was still running for his life, still trying to liberate a planet and still didn't have a tie.

See? Couldn't think about it. Completely unavoidable.

How the Doctor loved his foolproof plans.

"He's a friend," the Time Lord reaffirmed, tugging Rose along. "And so are we." He stared at the broken group of creatures. "We know you're grieving, and we know that we've got no right to ask you for anything, not now, but we need your help, if you'll give it."

"They saved your lives and now they're giving you the opportunity to fight," Lenica added. "To _do_ something."

Another belikfest looked up, a spark entering her eyes. "To fight?"

The Doctor nodded. "I need to get to my ship and the Laxcorvatallaions want to keep me from it."

"You don't have to help us," Rose added quickly from the Doctor's side. "Not if you don't want to."

Rose, never wanting others to get hurt to the point where it did nothing but endanger herself, too compassionate for her own good. Thankfully, the Doctor was there to be certain that she didn't let her humanity get the better of her.

And she was there for him, to remind him of the price he was asking from these people. To keep him from becoming alien to a point of thoughtless cruelty.

He really did need her too much.

Maz looked on compellingly at the group. "You don't have to sit here and wait to die either."

There was a long pause before the flightly spoke. "We can fight?" She was looking at Maz before turning her gaze to the Doctor. "Punish them for what they've done to us?"

The Doctor looked at her gravely. "Yes."

She gave a single nod, standing up in one fluid motion before brushing sand off of her legs and staring up at him once more. "Then I'm coming with you."

Within minutes all but a few of the prisoners agreed to help, Rose had left Lenica's son with one of the marvilinion's friends from inside the cell, the Doctor had rebolted the door, and the merry bunch of bandits had set off to Maz's kitchen to pick up some more glucose for the road.

All things considered, the Doctor was quite pleased. The only thing he really needed to top the day off was a banana. Or to escape with both Rose and him still alive.

Either would do.

They made it to Maz's kitchen quickly, the Doctor convincing Lenica to stay behind with the rest of the new recruits while he, Rose and Maz went ahead to the hidden back room to gather more sugar.

He needed some time alone with the glucose.

The three went down the small and dark steel hallway, Rose glancing around in puzzlement. "There's no one here, no resistance," she said as the Doctor continued to tug her along. "Seems a bit odd, after I've just escaped and Maz has gone missing."

"Neo-human disappearances aren't going to make the Laxcorvatallaions take much notice," Maz muttered from behind them, cursing as he tripped over something. "Not when there's a Time Lord on the loose. Besides," he added after a pause. "They wouldn't think that you'd have any reason to come back to your execution room."

Rose frowned. "But the sugar-?"

"They probably don't know exactly where it goes," the Doctor interrupted.

"That doesn't seem like a smart way to keep an empire running, having no notion where your greatest weakness is." She looked to the Doctor quizzically. "Why not?"

"They're allergic," the Doctor responded simply. "Staying in the kitchen for very long is likely to make them sneezy, actually hunting down the glucose would be traumatizing to their systems." The Doctor came to a stop as they reached the proper room, opening the door and sighing sadly. "Really, out of all the things to be allergic to, why was this race cursed with the misfortune of having it be sugar? It's like being allergic to sunshine or kittens." He strode forward, going to the center of the room where there was a large crater in the floor, filled to the brim with glucose. "No wonder they eat people."

Rose stared on at the large pit. "That explains it then."

"Of course it does," the Doctor said, turning to her and nodding sagely. "Anyone's going to be cranky without a little sweetness now and again."

"No, Doctor." She gave him an indulgent smile. "When they dropped me off, they left before helping Maz." She nodded to the neo-human, who was on her other side. "Ran out, really. I thought they were just being rude, but if they're that allergic…" She paused, looking intently at the sugar a moment more before glancing up to him. "Can it kill them?"

"If they come in contact with too much sugar?" The Doctor locked his eyes onto the sugar as well. "Yes." He bent down, taking out his sonic screwdriver with one hand and pointing it at the substance, face grim. "But it won't."

Maz regarded him speculatively, pushing his glasses up on his face. "How do you know?"

"I'm making sure of it," the Time Lord replied, the screwdriver _hum_ing away. "Diluting the glucose. It'll be impossible for the bunch out there to do more than severely injure the Laxcorvatallaions." He gestured to Maz, still concentrating on the glucose. "Go get some of those plastic bags, would you?"

Maz blinked pointedly. "What? Am I your slave now?" He gaped. "I don't even want to be here!"

"But you are," Rose pointed out. "Might as well be useful, yeah?"

Maz glared, his gaze shifting between the two of them. "I hate you both," he said bitterly before beginning to sulk off to find the plastic bags, the Doctor hearing a muted, "I really really do," mixed in with the sounds of shuffling plastic.

Once Maz was sufficiently occupied in a corner of the room, Rose went down on her knees next to the Doctor, gripping his hand more tightly as she asked, "So no one will die, Doctor? We won't kill anyone?"

"There's going to be a war, Rose." He responded bleakly, looking over his shoulder to be certain that Maz couldn't overhear. "People will die." He turned back to the glucose, determined. "But not today."

Not if he could help it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title**: Suspending Belief (8/9)  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. sniff  
**Spoilers**: General season two pre-Doomsday.  
**Summary**: _Rose quickly pushed down all feelings of guilt. The sight of the Doctor's pout was a powerful force, and the image of his frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers. But not this time. She was about to be _eaten_. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable._  
**Author's Notes**: So the good news is that I'm, officially, done writing. The bad news is that it took one more chapter (again) than anticipated. Someone kick me for the crazy. Also in terms of good things, my fantastic friend **Storm Medicine** said, 'Enough is enough!' and was gracious enough to look this chapter over. So if your eyes don't fall out, it's all thanks to her skill and power of awesome. Many thanks to her, as she is wonderful and brilliant and deserves lots of cookies. That being said, any and all concrit is still most welcomed. Thanks for your time!

--

**Part Eight**

--

They were running.

Granted, there was a perfectly justified reason for the running this time around. After all, they had managed to get themselves involved with a large group of escaped aliens that stuck out like a sore thumb, and there was the ever-present threat of a task force of Laxcorvatallaions awaiting them around every corner. But still.

Rose missed leisurely walks. The kind that happened when she wasn't running for her life or trying to save some planet or another from ancient monarchies with cruel and unjust policies.

But, she supposed, at least the running had the benefit of never getting dull.

Although, she thought as she felt pain flair from her forearm, it did have a tendency to backfire every now and then. Not that she regretted the running and adventure per se, but an occasional break wouldn't hurt.

Not that she had any intention of telling the Doctor _that_ particular tidbit. He would likely jump at the chance it offered to send her back home, to keep her 'safe,' a concern that seemed to be occupying a lot of his thoughts as of late. Rose did appreciate his worry, but if he wanted to send her away in the hopes of protecting her he had best rethink his plans. She wasn't going to be told to leave, ordered back to her world like a child being sent off to her room.

It wasn't that she was ungrateful. Rose understood that the Doctor wanted to look after her, to keep her away from harm and danger. But if he did make her leave, if he did manage to send her home, then who was going to look after him?

Because the Doctor needed Rose. Even if he didn't feel they way she felt, even if he didn't crave that something she could feel lingering on the edges of their every interaction, he did require her presence, did need someone there to care for him when he wouldn't care for himself. To keep him in line and to make sure he didn't forget the consequences of his actions, to give him hope when he had none left and to hold his hand as he traveled throughout the large and lonely universe.

The Doctor needed her, and she was terrified that he would send her away in spite of that fact. Yes, Rose loved the adventure, loved the excitement and the vast possibilities that life with the Doctor offered, but those loves weren't the reasons why she stayed.

She stayed because she loved him.

Not that he could know that either, of course. If a hint that she'd like the occasional break could make him send her home, a declaration like that would convince him to drop her off instantly, no doubt using some bit of overly complicated Time Lord technology to wipe her mind and forget that she had ever met him.

It didn't matter, in any case. She might love him, but he would never allow himself that same painful, glorious, punishment.

And so, Rose Tyler would stay quiet. She wouldn't tell the Doctor that her arm hurt, that a little less running would be lovely, thanks, or that she cared for him in a way that was, most decidedly, not platonic. Tiny little lies of omission so he would keep her close, so that she could keep him safe.

At least now she was with the Doctor again, and it appeared like she wouldn't be leaving his company any time soon, if the death grip he had taken on her hand was any indication. Which was excellent. It was about time he learned that they were both much better off while in each other's company. No less prone to disaster, apparently, but far more happy.

Danger by oneself was terrifying, but danger with the Doctor was a grand adventure.

Rose was just contemplating the benefits of this happy arrangement when they stopped suddenly, the Doctor screeching to a halt as Rose ran into him.

And she didn't notice all of the sharp, lean angles of him as she was pressed against his back. Didn't revel in the sensation of the fabric of his coat pressing against her cheek, didn't have to repress that blasted imagination of hers and certainly didn't need to resist the urge to bend into him or wrap her arms around him.

Absolutely not, because Rose Tyler was _not_ a lovesick fool.

"Thanks for the warning," she muttered up at him, Lenica echoing the sentiment from his shoulder.

The Doctor grinned back in reply. "Just keeping you on your toes." He nodded toward the intersection they had just reached. "Around that corner there's the entrance hall, where we parked the TARDIS. It's probably where they've summoned all of the Laxcorvatallaions guards to wait for us."

He turned so that they were looking back down the hallway, where the ragtag group of aliens stared on, silent but brimming with untapped rage and energy, many dancing from leg(s) to leg(s) as they awaited orders.

It created a stark contrast to their formerly limp and lifeless forms, this sudden manic energy all the more startling for it. There could be no question that revenge was a powerful, effective motivator, but Rose wasn't at all certain that it was the right one.

"What should we do?" one of the bear-like creatures (a belikfest, according to the Doctor) asked after a few moments of strained silence.

Everyone turned expectantly to the Time Lord.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, scratching at his hair with his free hand. "Throw a lot of sugar at them?"

Rose blinked at him.

He stared back. "What?" he asked, eyes wide and innocent.

The Doctor always had a plan. Or at least, was always eager to delve into the process of creating an overly complicated and expansive scheme. 'Throwing a lot of sugar at them' was neither expansive nor complicated, and that innocent look was far from sincere.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you up to?"

"Me? I'm not up to anything." He shook his head adamantly. "Nope, not me. Just standing here, minding my own business." He whistled. "Up to absolutely nothing."

Lenica sighed in annoyance from his shoulder. "Well, do you at least have a better plan?"

The Doctor adopted an insulted look. "And what was wrong with the one I gave you?"

Maz snorted from his spot among the crowd. "Would have thought you'd come up with something a little more high-tech or 'sonic.'" He crossed his arms irritably and leaned against the wall.

"Would you like me to?" the Doctor asked eagerly, perking up. "Everything really is better with a little bit of sonic thrown in. Transportation, for example. Just a tad of sonic and you can shatter the sound barrier without breaking a sweat. And have you ever seen a sonic hammer? Or a wrench, now there's a-"

"Doctor," Lenica ground out from his shoulder, obviously doing her best to maintain her equanimity. "Thank you, but I think we'd best come up with another plan, one _without_ the aid of a sonic device." She sighed and scampered down the Doctor's shoulder onto the ground, looking out across the group.

Meanwhile Rose continued to study the Doctor, more than a little suspicious.

Her fears were affirmed when he turned to look at her, smiling widely.

"You're going to cause trouble, aren't you?" Rose asked quietly, so no one else could hear.

"Me, cause trouble?" He gave his head a small shake. "No no no. I'm just giving our little birdie a violent push out of the nest."

Rose frowned. "What?" She regarded him in annoyance. "What are you talking about, our little birdie? What do you mea-"

He brought his free hand to her lips, holding a finger firmly there and staring at her sternly. "Shush." He grinned, and Rose did her best to remain annoyed with him and not think about the texture of the pad of his finger. "I have a plan, just wait and see."

Rose rolled her eyes, his finger still pressed to her lips, amused by the irony of the Doctor telling her to shush.

"But what is your pla-"

"Ah-ha!" the Doctor said and pressed more firmly, smirking. "Patience." He then promptly removed his hand, grinning as he turned back to the aliens.

She gave another eye-roll and took a deep breath.

Patience. She could do that.

Lenica paced a bit on the ground before she stopped suddenly and faced the former prisoners, nodding. "Right. We need to attack them, charge at them, make them panic."

The other belikfest in the group spoke up, furrowing her brow. "But how?"

"Fine, fine." Lenica gave an aggravated sigh. "We'll break off into two groups- half will attack from the left and half from the right." She pointed her tail towards half of the hall. "You lot, go left."

Rose looked frantically from Lenica to the Doctor, becoming nervous. This was far too shoddy, too risky, and Lenica, although more than capable of spurring the group into action, obviously had no idea what she was doing. She would get them all slaughtered, and she would do it because she was too determined to avenge her son to realize that she was charging them all to disaster.

"Doctor…"

He didn't remove his eyes from the group. "Wait for it."

"The rest of us will go right." Lenica continued. "We'll meet up in the center-"

There was an exasperated stomp of a foot and a dramatic sigh, and suddenly Maz was striding forward, glaring down at the marvilinion. "Oh, are you trying to get them killed?"

Lenica scowled at him. "What?"

"You haven't even looked to see what their formation is," he muttered, coming up to where Rose and the Doctor stood and taking a quick peek around the corner. He then whipped his head back, sending the Doctor a confused look. "You saw that. Why didn't you say anything?"

The Doctor shrugged, adopting the overly innocent set to his features once more. "Didn't know any better."

Maz rolled his eyes, muttering as he turned to face the group once more. "Wonderful. Of course you wouldn't. That would actually be _useful_ rather than bothersome."

The Doctor simply grinned.

"So this was your plan?" Rose whispered. "To get someone else to make the plan?"

The Doctor positively beamed, watching Maz with pride. "Yep!"

Rose frowned.

With a little too much pride, considering how much the Doctor had despised the man mere hours ago. "Why are you so happy about that?"

The Doctor said nothing, simply grinning at her, waiting expectantly with eyebrows raised.

He wanted her to figure this out for herself, then.

She looked to the ground, thinking for a moment before turning back to the Doctor, eyes widening in surprise. "_Maz_?" she said, astonished. "He's 'our little birdie'?"

The Doctor continued to smile smugly, gesturing forward. "Better listen." He gave a sage nod. "Wouldn't want to miss what we're supposed to be doing, would we?"

Rose glared. "You can't keep doing that, you know. I want answers and I won't be-"

The Doctor simply put his finger over her mouth again, sending her another infuriating grin. "Patience."

Rose heaved a sigh and nodded once in defeat, knowing that he would have his way in the end. Satisfied, the Doctor removed his fingers, and tightened his grip on her hand, inching closer to her so that their hips almost touched.

Not quite, but Rose could feel the distance between them.

By this point Maz was firmly positioned in front of the group, looking out at them intently. "There's about thirty of them and thirty of us, but they're not all in one place. They're scattered throughout the room. If you charge in two large clumps, they'll surround you in seconds." He sent them a confounded expression, pushing up his glasses. "And why are you charging in the first place? They have to touch you to hurt you, and you've got ammo to spare." He gestured to the bag of glucose slung over his shoulders. "Squirt the glucose at them from out here, don't put people in danger who you don't have to."

Lenica examined him critically, obviously wary. "And you got all of this from one look?"

The neo-human looked at her and answered with a blunt, "Yes."

Rose shook her head, staring at the man in puzzlement. "How do you know all this?" Strategic planning, as far as Rose was aware of, was not a part of a cook's preliminary education.

Maz turn to her and shrugged. "I was in boy scouts."

An audible 'ahh' went throughout the crowd, and suddenly the group of aliens viewed Maz with more trusting eyes.

Rose, however, simply blinked dumbly before turning to the Doctor. "What?" she demanded of him, voice lowered so as not to disturb the others.

He grinned and explained. "Around the 50th century the boy scouts become a military training academy for all of Earth."

"Oh," she remarked, grinning. "I suppose that would explain that, then, wouldn't it?" She paused for a moment before shaking her head. "But, wait. They still have the boy scouts? Thirty thousand years into the future and the boy scouts are what remain?"

"Oh, yeah," the Doctor replied, nodding. "The boy scouts are one of the few eternal things in the universe."

She gave another dumb blink. "Seriously?"

He inclined head in affirmation. "At least until the year three billion." He looked up in thought for a moment before giving another nod. "Yep, that's right. Then they leave Earth and expand to new territories. Big hit in the Scarlet Galaxy, let me tell you. The hats? Major fashion statement for an age."

"Out of all the things to survive…"

He shrugged, staring seriously at her. "'Always be prepared' is an incredibly effective motto."

They exchanged a look and the Doctor cracked a smile while Rose did her best to suppress a snicker, turning forward to listen to Maz once more.

"Plus, they don't know you have so many people, which means you've got the advantage of surprise," he was saying, pacing a bit and gesturing. "Disperse around the different entrances to the hall in small groups to be more effective." He paused and then gave a nod to himself, grinning as he pushed up his glasses. "And the radiation doesn't hurt the natives, pair people up accordingly and look out for each other." He frowned at the ground for a moment before looking up once more. "You're going to need a distraction while you get into position, or else they'll hear you moving about." He swept his eyes over the group, giving a humorless grin. "This isn't exactly a discrete bunch."

Maz paused to take a breath of air, Lenica quickly taking the opportunity to jump in and ask, "Why are you helping us?" while staring at him speculatively.

"I'm not helping you," Maz replied quickly. "I'm helping me." He began to grumble. "Apparently I can't leave until I'm given permission, and I've got my wife to go home to." He nodded to her. "The sooner you can go, the sooner I can."

"You could leave just as easily when we're all dead," the marvilinion pointed out.

"I don't _like_ killing people, despite what you may think," Maz spat out, and Lenica had the grace to turn her head away, ashamed, at least for a moment.

But in the next she had shaken herself and stared at him sternly once more. "Then you're coming with us."

"What?" Maz barked out a laugh. "Out there?" He shook his head. "No."

Lenica's stare remained hard and unrelenting.

"No!"

"She's right, Maz," the Doctor said sadly, stepping forward and dragging Rose with him. "If you stay back here, more people could die because they don't know what they're doing. I'll be too busy trying to get to my ship to help."

The neo-human continued to shake his head in denial. "I won't!"

"We're not giving you a choice," Lenica told him without sympathy.

Maz's shoulders slumped as he looked from Lenica to the Doctor. "I can't lose my job, I can't die. My family needs me."

"This planet needs you," the Doctor replied gravely, and both Maz and Rose gave him a quizzical glance before the Time Lord continued on cheerfully. "And who said anything about dying? That's just excessive and unnecessary. All you've got to do is help this lot and live." He patted the neo-human on the shoulder. "Not too hard, right?"

Maz glared, opening his mouth to respond, only to be cut off.

"That's right," the Doctor answered for him, giving the cook's arm an extra pat before turning to the rest of the group, appear to avoid Rose's gaze.

And the only reason the Doctor would do that would be because he was about to do something decidedly stupid.

"Right then," the Time Lord continued, his grip on Rose's fingers loosening for the first time. "I'm off to create that distraction you need." Fingers untwining, aching joints so used to contact flaring up in protest.

Funny, that her very body should hurt at the loss of him.

"Go and cover all the entrances, and be certain to advance simultaneously." The Doctor shook out his hand, glaring at it a bit (probably feeling the pain as well) before turning back to the group. "And please be kind enough to make your move before I'm burnt to a crisp, thanks." He gave a quick smile and a wave. "Bye then!"

Then he made a darting motion, obviously attempting to speed out around the corner in a stylish swooping fashion, coat billowing and all.

And this would have worked quite nicely had Rose not snagged this coat by the collar and brought the Doctor's swoop to an abrupt jerking halt.

She felt rather bad about causing him to make those horrible choking noises, but was otherwise completely lacking all remorse as she levelly said, "I'm coming with you."

"No," the Doctor coughed out, rubbing at his throat and sending her a stern look. "You're staying."

"So you're saying that they can risk their lives but I'm not allowed to risk mine?"

"This isn't your fight."

"But it's yours?"

He sighed. "Rose, I have to go out there unarmed or else they'll shoot me on sight." He looked at her seriously, bringing up a hand to cup her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. "It won't be safe."

If he was trying to distract her it was working, Rose resisting the impulse to bend into his touch, his almost-caress. It was just so soothing, so heartfelt, so wonderfully intoxicating to be in his presence, to have his complete attention, to be subject to his ministrations.

But that didn't mean that she was going to let him get away with leaving her.

She shook her head, grabbing the hand that was on her cheek and removing it from her face, regarding the Time Lord sincerely. "I agreed to 'stay safe' last time and it almost got me killed." She held his hand in both of hers, looking him in the eye while squeezing gently. "The safest place in this madhouse is with you, Doctor."

He simply stared, eyes void of their usual mirth and glee, but filled with something darker. Something sad and lonely, showing the part of him who had lost everything and everyone he had ever cared for. "We both know that isn't true."

She didn't flinch from that desolate gaze, meeting it with her own and wrapping one of her hands firmly around his. "I'm not leaving you."

There was a moment in which Rose wasn't sure if she had won, wasn't at all positive that he would cave, admit that she was in right and let her come with him.

That was the heartbreaking thing about the Doctor. Sometimes, he feared losing someone so intently that he left them behind instead.

But Rose would not be left, not if she had anything to say about it.

And, she realized as the Doctor heaved a sigh and gripped her hand more tightly, the Doctor was slowly becoming aware of this.

"You're too stubborn for your own good, you know."

She sent him a cheeky grin, giddy with the small triumph. "You'd get bored if I wasn't." She tugged him forward. "Come on then, we've got a planet to save."

There was a decidedly longsuffering quality to his drab, "I suppose we do," in reply as they turned the corner.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title**: Suspending Belief  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. sniff  
**Spoilers**: Season two pre-"Doomsday."  
**Summary**: _Rose quickly pushed down all feelings of guilt. The sight of the Doctor's pout was a powerful force, and the image of his frowning face had been more than enough to break stronger wills than hers. But not this time. She was about to be _eaten_. It was going to take a lot more than a pout to make that prospect seem any more agreeable._  
**Author's Notes**: Well guys, this is it. This last chapter was so graciously looked over by the talented and magnificent Storm Medicine and lookatmoiye7 (from LJ). They are both lovely and beautiful people who get mountains of thanks and cookies! (Because everything great should involve cookies at some point.) However, even with their help my faults know no bounds, and as such concrit is always welcomed. Thank you all for your time and it's been a blast!

--

**Part Nine**

--

"Hello, oh dignified, mighty, gracious – not to mention quite handsome - guards of the Laxcorvatallaion nobility!"

It typically didn't work, but the Doctor always thought it best to test the 'flattery will get you everywhere' theory, just in case, although he did rather wish that it wasn't necessary to begin with. After all, they were the ones who had tried to kill him.

But then, they were also the ones who could burn him to a crispy husk if they so chose.

Hence, the need for flattery.

"I've noticed that you've taken to lounging about in front of my ship. Would you mind horribly letting us through?" He motioned toward the other end of the dining hall. "More sunlight at that end of the room anyway."

There was a tug on his hand from Rose, and he felt her rise up on her toes and whisper into his ear. "Doctor-"

She really did need to stop doing that, or else he'd end up trembling while he was attempting to be intimidating and Time Lord-like.

Of course, saying that aloud would be a horrible tactical move. Instead he settled on a clipped, "I'm negotiating, Rose." He turned to the Laxcorvatallaions, who were partaking in a collective glower, and gestured to the windows on the other side of the room. "Just look at that southern sky! Much more agreeable than the northern view, don't you think?"

Another puff of air ruffling the hair at the back of his neck. "Doctor-"

"Busy, Rose," he managed to squeak out, giving a small involuntary quiver and turning to address the Laxcorvatallaions once more. "I mean, sure, you've got that red sun blaring on you, but at least it creates great lighting for the right sort of 'mood,' if you know what I mean."

"Doctor!"

Well. There certainly wasn't going to be any mood-making with _that_ tone.

"Fine, fine. No need to shout." He turned to Rose, ignoring the aliens who wanted nothing more than to cook them and giving her his full attention. "What is it?"

She nodded toward a spot behind said group of aliens. "The TARDIS."

The Doctor looked back and noticed that his ship was effectively chained in every way possible, securely attached to the floor with the entrance sealed off.

That was rather inconvenient.

"Oh," he said, readjusting his stance and coughing a bit as he looked to the Laxcorvatallaions. "And if you wouldn't mind unlocking my ship, that would be lovely as well."

A form made its way towards them from the large, scattered mass of aliens. He stopped once he had reached the head of the Laxcorvatallaion troop and glared at the Doctor, a still-blistering wound on the right side of his body.

"Surrender now and you won't suffer, Time Lord," Larin spat in a tone that was far from civil. "If anyone else gets hurt I can't promise that we'll be offering that same courtesy."

The Doctor frowned. "Who said anything about hurting? That's no fun, that. I just want to get to my ship, that's all. Slip in, slip out. No harm done."

"A little too late for that, I think," the Laxcorvatallaion ground out. "Zel's been in the infirmary screaming for the past hour." His gaze was hard, steely as he stared the Doctor down. "We're not in a charitable mood."

The Doctor felt a moment of shame.

The Time Lord knew better than most that there came times when harming others became necessary, when the circumstances left no option but to strike back, to hurt, damage and destroy or risk paying a price that was far too high to forfeit. Yes, the Doctor knew that sometimes violence was unavoidable, but that didn't mean that it should ever be easy.

The Doctor adjusted the intensity of his gaze to match that of Larin. "He'll live," he said, tone no longer light or accommodating. "Can't say the same for all of those you've killed to keep the appetites of your nobles satisfied."

Larin stiffened, shifting on his feet, uncomfortable. "To maintain order sacrifices must be made."

"And what makes those sacrifices less worthy of your concern than Zel?" Rose demanded from the Doctor's side, her tone fierce as she stared at the Laxcorvatallaion.

It was then that the Doctor realized that her hand was still clenched in his.

She shouldn't have been there at all, mind. If the Doctor had been a sensible creature she would have been back in the hallway, out of harm's way.

Of course, the Doctor had very little sense to begin with, and when he looked at her that small remnant of good judgment seemed to vanish entirely. He'd do anything he could to make her happy, and the Doctor knew that particular brand of devotion was dangerous.

But he doubted that he could ever bring himself to send her away, for reasons that he was unwilling to ponder at present.

He still had no tie, was still running for his life and was still trying to liberate a planet.

Rules were rules.

"They're still people," Rose continued, and the Doctor took the opportunity to eye the pillared entrances around the hall. He heard nothing, saw nothing, that gave him any indication that anyone was behind those doors.

They needed more time.

"Still creatures who have the right to live."

"Things have been working this way for centuries without incident, running smoothly from generation to generation." Larin spat, furious gaze focused on Rose. "Everything was fine until you _humans_ came along."

The Doctor felt Rose flinch a bit at the ferocity of the words, squeezing his hand more tightly as she met the Laxcorvatallaion's stare, despite his livid and fearsome manner.

It was more than a little startling. After all, Larin had been the reasonable one.

Larin shook his head, glaring. "You couldn't just accept the way things were, couldn't leave the established order be. No, you had to try to change things to better suit yourselves, to alter a culture that you invaded just because it didn't make you as comfortable as you were used to."

"They want their rights," the Doctor said sternly. "That's hardly an invasion."

"They want change," the Laxcorvatallaion shot back.

Rose shook her head. "Change isn't always bad!"

"Change is dangerous and costly, especially when the Laxcorvatallaion nobility don't want or need it," Larin snapped at Rose before turning his attention back to the Doctor, done with negotiations. "Do you surrender, Time Lord?"

The Doctor was about to answer in a mildly polite fashion (the kind that wouldn't get them killed), when there was the faint, barely distinguishable sound of shuffling feet and the small hint of shadows behind the various doorways.

Fortunately, forced politeness wouldn't be required.

"Well," he began. "If I do surrender, you'll take my companion and I to the kitchens and cook us for a bunch of primitive cellulites who are little more than filthy, murderous sacks of lard."

Larin, along with the group of Laxcorvatallaions around him, gaped.

"And, frankly, I'm just not up for being the main dish this evening." The Doctor grinned widely, thoroughly amused by their silent gawking. "So, I'm afraid the answer is no."

And in the next instant, several things happened: the Laxcorvatallaions, from various positions in the room, were shocked out of their stillness and began to move forward, obviously intent on causing the Doctor serious bodily harm; the twelve doors that led to the dining hall were flung open, revealing the escaped prisoners, angry and eager to fight; and Rose pulled violently on the Doctor's hand, forcing him to crouch on the floor as flying torrents of glucose landed on the large orange aliens.

And then there was a lot of screaming from the Laxcorvatallaions.

It was a messy task, making their way to the TARDIS while dodging flailing bodies and hails of sugar, but somebody had to do it. And as was often the case for the Doctor, that somebody happened to be him - and whoever else was foolish enough to go with him.

Because Rose was still there, her hand still in his, and she showed absolutely no hint of wishing to leave any time soon.

And, although he would never admit it, the Doctor was profoundly grateful for it, for all the wonderful facets of her that kept him grounded, that kept his hope alive.

When they finally did reach the TARDIS, the modified, nonfatal, glucose was already beginning to lose its potency, an oversight that could easily end in disaster.

What they needed was a plan.

Fortunately, the Doctor was great at those.

He pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and handed it to Rose, gesturing to the chains. "Get into the TARDIS and fish the hose out from under the console."

Rose blinked at him. "The hose? Why would anyone have a hose in a time machine?"

"For situations like this, obviously!" he said with a grin, which Rose quickly returned.

Even with both of their lives at stake she could still laugh with him, still trust him enough to share in a glib joke while a battle raged around them, risking her life with a enthusiasm, joy and a smile.

It really was no wonder that the Doctor kept Rose Tyler around.

He took a moment to study her face, her nose, her eyebrows, the small laugh lines that were beginning to form around her lips, foretelling more wrinkles to come. It was all beautiful, every glowing inch of her. He moved his gaze to their joined hands, examining every detail he could absorb. The way her fingers fit so easily inside of his own, how their palms connected as if they were designed to fit in one another, the feel of her soft skin pressed tightly to his own.

And then he let go, fearing that if he kept it up for too long he'd never be able to do so.

"I'll be back before you can say 'Raxacoricofallapatorius,'" he said as he glanced over his shoulder and then began a speedy move to leave, quickly interrupted by the feel of a gentle tug on the arm of his coat.

Rose looked at him, concern shining in her eyes. "What will you be doing?"

"Oh, you know, same old." He grinned. Rose released him as the Doctor sprinted away once more. "Just saving the world!"

He all but felt her eye roll as he weaved through the crowd and made his way to Maz's struggling form. The neo-human, sporting several bags of glucose, was dodging several flailing Laxcorvatallaions while keeping an eye on the rest of the room. Meanwhile Lenica perched on his shoulder, a painful looking scorch on her tail.

"The glucose," Maz yelled as the Time Lord reached them. The Doctor pulled them into a secluded corner. "It's not working, not affecting them like it should."

"It's working fine," the Doctor replied quickly, eyeing the marvilinion's injury. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she said. "Thanks to him," she added begrudgingly, motioning to Maz.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows and turned to the neo-human expectantly, only have the man wave it off. "She wouldn't have been hurt at all if the sugar was working properly."

The Doctor shook his head dismissively and then looked across the room, trying to take stock of the other members of the group. "It's doing just what it's supposed to. How is everyone else?"

Lenica frowned at him. "What do you mean 'just what it's supposed to'? It's supposed to kill them!"

The Doctor said nothing, sensing the marvilinion's rage.

"What did you do?" she demanded, tone livid.

The Doctor leveled his stare with hers, expression severe. "I prevented you from killing people who don't need to die."

"To accomplish what?" she snapped back. "To make it easier for them to kill us? Well, that's good, then." she eyed the Doctor with disgust. "As long as we're the ones to die it doesn't matter, does it?"

"No one's going to die!" the Doctor yelled.

He had seen too many people die. For good reasons or bad, senseless or for a noble cause, too many had fallen in his lifetime for him to be capable of casually doling out death sentences. He would not let it happen again, not permit mindless slaughter in his presence.

No one would die. Not if they didn't have to.

The Doctor leveled his intense stare on the marvilinion.

Lenica was silenced instantly.

"I have a plan," he reassured her, tone softening slightly. "Where's the flighty?"

"Kelica? Over there." Maz nodded to the other side of the room, never taking his eyes off the Time Lord. "Here." He removed the extra bag of sugar he had slung over his shoulders, "take this."

The Doctor grinned gratefully, hefting the large bag. "Thanks."

"Whatever your plan is, you'd better implement it quickly," Maz remarked, his gaze still serious as he looked around the room. "If all of these Laxcorvatallaions are going to get up again, no worse for wear, we don't have much time."

The Doctor met the man's gaze levelly. "I know," he replied, maintaining the look for a moment before starting across the room once more, back to the TARDIS, back to Rose, and back to a hose.

He was making excellent progress and was quite pleased with himself until he came face-to-face with a horribly disfigured Laxcorvatallaion, the entire structure of his face replaced with ugly boils, who was eyeing the Doctor with malice.

"Look what you've done to me!" the creature screamed at the Doctor, eyes slightly crazed and heaving breaths that were obviously painful.

And the Doctor knew then that it could only be one person.

"Zel, I'm sorry, but you were going to hurt someone." From the looks of it, the Laxcorvatallaion had escaped from the infirmary. A device similar an IV line was dangling from his neck, and he was panting angrily as he took a step closer to the Time Lord. "I couldn't let you do that."

"So you decided to disfigure me?" Zel yelled, advancing menacingly, limping, as the Doctor struggled with the unopened bag of glucose over his shoulders. "What are my children going to say when they see me like this? My wife?"

The Doctor shook his head in denial, running a quick hand through his wild hair helplessly. "You were going to kill Rose!"

He was close now, close enough to touch, and the Doctor still didn't have the bag open. "And she deserved it," the Laxcorvatallaion spat. He raised a hand. "Just like you do."

"Stop!" a voice cried from somewhere behind Zel, a too-familiar voice whose owner should have been in the TARDIS waiting for him.

Stupid, _stupid_ ape.

"Right now!" Rose continued, and the scarred Laxcorvatallaion turned to face her. She was pointing the sonic screwdriver right between Zel's eyes. "I'm not afraid to use this, you know!" she said as she shook the device a bit. "Now, back away and leave him alone."

This, the Doctor decided, was not a good idea.

"Rose!"

"It's all right, Doctor, I've got it," she reassured him quickly, sending him a small smile before turning her gaze back to Zel, shifting on her feet slightly.

The alien began to advance toward her, and the Doctor took the time to struggle with his bag of glucose. This wasn't going to end well, not at all. Because the Laxcorvatallions were a very technologically advanced race.

And that only spelled trouble for Rose.

Who was currently smiling in satisfaction up ahead, the shopgirl eyeing the Laxacorvatallion smugly. "Good, just back away, don't get too close." Rose frowned and Zel ignored her. There was a gleam in his eyes as he continued to advance. "Okay, you can stop now." She retreated a few steps. "Really, you could have stopped."

Zel smiled vilely, taking another set of shuffling steps toward her. "You're trying to threaten me with a sonic screwdriver?"

"Oh." The Doctor saw Rose gulp nervously. "You know what this is, then?"

Another smile. "Yes."

And then he had her, his long thin arms wrapped around her form, one hand firmly around her neck with the other around her forearm - Rose wincing as the bony fingers grasped the wound they had created a mere hour before.

"Don't hurt her!" the Doctor screamed, rushing forward.

"Throw down your weapon," the Laxcorvatallaion told him.

The Doctor stared blankly, Rose looking at him with wide-eyes.

Entirely too trusting.

And that blind faith was terrifying, becuase he'd always known that one day he would let her down.

"Do it!" Zel yelled, and the Doctor quickly tossed the glucose off his shoulders.

Better to see an entire civilization remain in squalor, better to be killed than to have to watch her die.

He always knew that holding onto Rose Tyler would be the death of both of them.

"Good," Zel said, smug, tightening his grip on Rose's throat and causing her to wince. "Now, the nobles are getting mighty cranky, and that means bad news for the citizens of Ellricion. Let's solve the problem. Why don't the three of us take a walk to Marty's kitchen?"

"You don't have to do this," Rose choked out.

"I don't have to do anything!" he yelled, sneering. "But it's all so much easier this way, don't you think?" He gave her a jerk and then looked to the Doctor.

"Move."

The Doctor remained stock still, eyes frantically looking from Zel to Rose.

He couldn't lose her. Not Rose.

There was the faint sound of searing flesh and Rose's pained cry as Zel gave her another shake. "Now, Time Lord!"

And the Doctor had just taken the first step when a large bag of glucose came flying from the edge of his vision. In an instant it had struck Zel in the head and knocked him to the floor, causing him to release Rose and bang his small skull on the steel of the tile.

Both the Doctor and Rose gaped in shock for a moment before raising their heads. The Doctor looked on in wonder as he saw the panting form of Maz, staring down at the unconscious body of the Laxcorvatallaion.

"I just knocked out one of my supervisors," he said in shock before lifting his head and grinning. "And damned if it wasn't wonderful!"

"Ha ha! That's the spirit!" the Doctor shouted in glee, giving the neo-human a huge grin before stepping forward and scooping Rose up in his arms in one swift motion, lifting her and holding on tight, breathing her in.

It was only when she squeaked out a strained, "Doctor," that he reluctantly set her on her feet once more.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he began to untangle himself from her, quickly running his hands over her. He felt her shivering as he did so, seeming no worse for the experience, if a little shaken. Until he came to her neck, that is, and she gave a small wince as he touched the new wounds.

"I'm okay," she responded after a moment, pulling him back to her for another hug, throwing her arms around his neck and taking a large breath. "How about you?"

"Me?" the Doctor asked with a slightly hysterical bark of laughter.

She really shouldn't mean this much to him. It wasn't safe, for either of them, for him to depend on her this much.

"You almost got killed while I stood and watched."

"I could say the same for you," she said angrily before holding him more tightly, eliminating the effect of the harsh tone of her words.

"Well, you're both still alive," Maz pointed out drolly from behind them, Lenica on his shoulder as the two of them watched the spectacle with strained patience. "Although that won't last long if you don't get a move on."

"Right," the Doctor said, removing himself from Rose but refusing to release her hand. "Sorry about that." He turned to his companion. "Hose?"

She gestured behind Maz. "Over there."

"Okay, then," he said with a grin. "Let's save the day, shall we?"

Rose gave a firm nod. "I think we shall."

The Doctor broke out into a wide grin. "Well what are we standing around here for, then?" With that he dashed forward, pulling Rose with him as he went about doing the thing that he did best.

Being brilliant, saving people, planets and civilizations. All of those good things. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more the Doctor realized that his effect was very similar to that of bananas.

The thought pleased him enormously.

After that, it was a simple matter to give one end of the long hose to Kelica and have her zoom to the room that stored the glucose while sending the two belikfests to the cells to get more of the sugar-chains.

Maz, releasing several decades' worth of unreleased rage against his employers, had then gleefully drenched the Laxcorvatallaions with the modified glucose, sending them to the floor, screaming at the intense pinching feeling that the Doctor's concoction was meant to produce.

No one, the Doctor reflected, appreciated the power of sheer irritation as opposed to pain. Yes, pain had the benefit of hurting, but who really _liked_ to be pinched?

In a matter of minutes the entire troop was wriggling on the floor, screaming from the unrelenting pinching sensation as they were tied with the bonds, many breaking out into unpleasant rashes, but none dead or dying. Meanwhile the released prisoners were viewing the pathetic display with amusement, still angry, but not murderous.

And the Doctor still had Rose's hand in his, neither too worse for the wear and tear of the past hours, even if both were covered in a ridiculous amount of sugar.

All things considered, the Doctor had had worse days.

"Well," Rose remarked blandly as they both stared at the glucose-covered floor and the Laxcorvatallaions littering the tiles. "I suppose I did ask for something new and this is, without question, very new for us."

The Doctor nodded in agreement. "Can't say it's happened to us before." He turned to her excitedly. "Want to do it again?"

She shot him an annoyed look. "No." She glanced down, looking at her now sugarcoated clothes. "At least not until I've changed and have had a nice wash."

"But then we can do it again?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, then we can do it again." She shook her free hand slightly, frowning when a glob of sugar went flying off the end of her fingers. "I'm going in," she said, gesturing to the TARDIS. "Just going to wash up a bit and change." She eyed their joined hands before glancing back up to him, inching closer. "You'll be in soon?"

The Doctor gave another nod, firmly quashing the desire to ask her to stay, to linger by his side and never leave.

It was a silly impulse, foolish and human and completely ridiculous in its utter lack of logic. They were safe now, she was going back to the TARDIS, back home, and he had absolutely no reason to beg her to hang about.

Besides, it would be cruel to ask her to stay drenched in all of that sugar forever.

Not that she would have to…

The Doctor promptly ended that thought, longing for his tie. Why weren't these things about when he needed them?

"Yep," the Doctor said, trying not to gulp. "Be there in a mo."

Rose grinned brightly at that, and the Doctor slowly, more reluctantly than he was comfortable with, detangled their fingers, letting out a small sigh of loss as she bounded back into the TARDIS.

Back to where he would never confess he felt she belonged.

"So, what now?"

The Doctor turned back to the crowd, shaking himself as he regarded Maz. "What's that?"

The neo-human had his arms crossed over his chest and was glaring at the Time Lord with no small amount of bitterness. "You've kidnapped me, dragged me along with you on your insane crusade, obviously got me fired." He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose irritably. "Anything else you'd like from me?"

From his shoulder, Lenica was rolling her eyes.

"Yes, actually, now that you mention it," the Doctor responded eagerly, striding forward as Maz stared back at him in horror.

The Doctor smirked a bit at that. Maz had offered the Time Lord an opportunity to talk and honestly thought that he wasn't going to take it?

Oh, those silly, silly humans.

The Time Lord strode forward and planted a hand firmly on Maz's free shoulder. "You have a responsibility now, Maz. To the people you've helped kill, to their families, to Lenica, to these prisoners and yourself. You have to undo the harm you've caused here." He stared at the man seriously, locking gazes with the cook. "You've got one chance to atone, to make things right as best you can." The Doctor gave the shoulder a quick pat and grinned broadly. "So don't muck it up, all right?"

Maz blinked.

"Good!" the Doctor said, without waiting for a response. "Well, I'm off then." He turned on his heel and walked briskly back to the TARDIS, missing Rose already.

Some voice in the corner of his mind muttered something about 'separation anxiety,' but the Doctor thought it would be best to ignore it. It was an awfully bothersome voice anyway.

"That's it?" Maz yelled. "I get a 'don't mess up' and you're off?"

"You can't go!" another person yelled from behind the Doctor, and he reluctantly turned to look at the group once more.

The flighty was staring at him desperately. "We need your help."

The Doctor shook his head, giving her a small smile and inclining his head toward Maz and Lenica. "You already have all the help you need."

He opened the door to the TARDIS.

"Running off is easy when you've got nothing holding you back, isn't it Time Lord?" Maz taunted behind him. "Easy enough not to face the consequences of your actions when you've no one depending on you."

The Doctor sighed, looking back at the neo-human, and opened his mouth to explain how dangerous it would be for a planet to rest its fate in his hands, how deadly it had been in the past. To tell him just how disastrous it would be for anyone to rely on him, how much pain he had caused to those he cared for most, and what truly facing the consequences of all that pain would entail.

But Lenica spoke up before he had the chance. "He's got someone depending on him, cook," she remarked, regarding the Doctor with a calculated look. "It's just not us." She smiled lightly, a knowing glint to her eye. "And he needs her just as much as she needs him."

The Doctor maintained the marvilinion's gaze, thinking it best to remain silent.

If he couldn't think about how he felt about Rose Tyler, he certainly wouldn't be allowed to talk about it.

"Go on, Doctor," Lenica said, nodding to the TARDIS. "We'll take care of things from here."

She gave another smile that the Doctor readily returned, turning back toward his ship.

"Wait," Maz said frantically. "'_We_'?" His tone took on a hysterical pitch. "There is no 'we' in this arrangement, you gruesome lizard!"

"You heard him, Neanderthal. You have to fix what you've done, and I _am_ going to make sure that you do it." A pointed pause. "Or else I'll be certain that you face the consequences."

There was a large sigh as the Doctor opened the TARDIS door further.

"Wonderful," Maz muttered. The Doctor glanced behind him to see Lenica smiling smugly while the neo-human hung his head in defeat.

"Good news, then!" the Doctor said cheerfully, grinning more widely at Maz's withering glare. "Well, in that case I'm off." He waved and put one foot in the TARDIS. "Happy Revolutionizing!"

"What?" he heard Maz shout as he slammed the door shut. "What did he say?" A frantic pause. "No! No, I will not!"

"You will," Lenica's voice sounded faintly through the wood. "And you'll smile while you're doing it."

The Doctor sighed happily.

His little birdie was growing up so very fast…

"That's it?"

The Doctor turned to see Rose at the console, towel in hand as she wiped away some muck on her face.

He bounded forward and fiddled with various controls. "That's it," he affirmed.

"But, the nobles are still in power!"

The Doctor gave a firm nod. "Yep."

Rose stared at him. "And we're just leaving?"

"Yes," the Doctor said as he ordered the TARDIS into the Vortex. "But the planet's in good hands."

"Whose?"

He flicked one last switch and then leaned against the controls, turning to Rose and smiling smugly. "You'd be surprised."

"I'd have to be, wouldn't I?" she muttered, huffing and throwing the towel onto the couch. "No one down there's done anything to get those overgrown kids out of power!" She began to pace in front of him, irritated. "And who are those nobles, anyway? They have the mental maturity of children and think that they're too good to be put in their place every now and then!" She looked to the Doctor, crossing her arms. "What makes them so special?"

"What makes anyone special?" he replied with a shrug. "Money. Hereditary. Social standing. Arbitrary facts doled out randomly at birth."

"Then why doesn't anyone change it?" she demanded. "It doesn't have to be this way!"

"Someone does change it," the Doctor remarked. "Just not today." He turned back to the console, bringing over the screen and fiddling with some more controls. "Not tomorrow either, for that matter." He looked up, contorting his face in an odd manner as he thought. "In about, oh, twenty years' time the Uprising begins. Retallamazdos Frank Doslinicon, I believe, starts the revolution, robs from the rich, gives to the poor. All of that good stuff." He focused on the controls once more. "Or at least he did." He grinned at her. "We might have changed things a bit, you and I."

She shook her head, coming up to stand next to him by the screen. "Frank?" She asked, smirking.

The Doctor gave a firm nod. "Frank." He pushed the screen over to her, gesturing to it smugly. "Take a look."

She gasped as she saw the photograph of a balding man with wire-rimmed glasses, covered with dirt and blood, a bag of sugar flung over his shoulder and a serious look on his face as he glanced over his shoulder, other men forming ranks behind him.

"That's Maz!" Her brow furrowed and she gave The Doctor a disbelieving look. "He leads the Uprising?"

The Doctor studied his fingernails. "I suppose he does," he said as casually as he could muster.

"You knew!"

Well, so much for casual.

"Knew what?" he asked innocently.

"You knew that he would lead the revolution later, didn't you?" She grumbled a bit. "'Our little birdie' indeed."

"I didn't know!" the Doctor protested, throwing down his hand and abandoning all attempts to appear blameless.

It never worked anyway.

"Had my suspicions maybe, but didn't _know_." He paused for a moment before reluctantly admitting, "At least not until he mentioned that his son could be born in over a year's time. Then I knew."

Rose glared at him.

He turned back to the console, taking the screen back and flicking through what information he could find. "Retallamazdos Frank Doslinicon began the Resistance within the next twenty years, when his nineteen year old son, Junior, his only child, was captured and killed by the Laxcorvatallaions for violating the strict neo-human laws of the time." He eyed Rose grimly. "I think he insulted the nobility."

There was a moment of pained silence. "He died?" Rose asked.

"Yep," the Doctor tried to say lightly. "And when he did, Maz did just what he told us he would do." He sent her a somber glance. "He tore down the walls of the very palace to get his revenge."

"Did he?"

"Eventually, although he wouldn't be alive to see it. Forty years in he was killed, months before the Uprising took control of the capital."

"So he dies," Rose said bleakly, looking at the Doctor sorrowfully. "He loses his son, seeks revenge and dies before he has a chance to revolutionize anything."

"He _did_ die," the Doctor pointed out quickly, poking at some more controls as he continued his search. "It's different now."

"Different?"

"We changed things," he clarified quickly, smiling as he brought up the correct set of information. "According to this, the revolution didn't start in twenty years' time… It started today."

"What?" Rose asked, leaning forward and snagging the screen from him.

"Yeah, see here." He pointed to another photo, markedly different from the other.

It seemed as if they had created a very different type of revolution.

It was still Maz, but instead of being on the front lines he was standing proudly on a stage in front of a large group of people, neo-human, Laxcorvatallaion and other aliens all included, obviously mid-pace with a red form perched on his shoulder, scowling at him.

"Lenica?" Rose asked in surprise, squinting at the photo before turning to the Doctor. "She was a part of the resistance too?"

"Well not before. She was dead then. But now…" He scanned the screen, smiling when he found the proper passage and gesturing to it. "Look here."

"'Veteran on the front lines, a co-commander of the Uprising and a life-long political partner of Retallamazdos Frank Doslinicon throughout the Revolution and Golden Age of Ellricion.'" Rose read. "Wait, 'life-long'? Does that mean he lives?" She smiled, turning to the Doctor hopefully. "Does that mean they both live?"

"I suppose so," the Doctor said smugly, leaning away from the screen and giving a nod of approval. "Those two, they'll make a good team. She'll keep him in line and he'll be certain she doesn't get too wrapped up in power."

"But can they work together? After everything that's happened?" She looked away from the screen to give the Doctor a grave look. "He killed her son."

The Doctor returned her gaze. "And I doubt either one of them will ever be able to forget that."

"But today, they were just so…" She sighed, running a hand through her hair before continuing. "Maz is too involved with his own life to care about anyone else's and Lenica's too obsessed with revenge to see past her need for it." She shook her head, giving a bitter laugh. "There's no way they could start a revolution, much less lead an entire planet."

The Doctor made a motion to respond.

"And how could they collaborate?" she continued before he could start.

He resisted the urge to pout.

"They can barely speak to one another!"

"Things always change, Rose," he pointed out, grinning at her frustration.

She sent him a speculative look. "Not like this."

"We re-wrote history by making a stand, running for our lives and saving twenty-seven aliens," he reminded her, smiling smugly. "We just changed a world without even trying to."

She laughed. "I never would have believed-"

The Doctor interrupted and stepped forward, sending her a stern look. "And what have I been telling you about belief, Rose?"

She sighed, staring up at him and smiling softly. "It's better off left in suspension."

"That's right," he said, nodding in satisfaction and trying to ignore the way she was looking at him. The way her eyelashes rested so beautifully against her skin and how her hair was still wet from its earlier washing. He tried not to notice their proximity and the way he could hear her, slightly gasped, breathing if he listened closely.

And he most definitely ignored how all of that made him feel, how much he loved being close to her and how desperately he needed it.

And he did that the only way that he knew how.

"Good to know I've gotten something through to that ape-like brain of yours."

He was rude.

"Oi, I will smack you!" Rose said. He smirked and quickly jumped away from her, grinning as he hopped to the other end of the console.

"Remember, people have been trying to eat me for the past five hours," she continued, following his progress. "I'm incredibly irritable."

"You wouldn't hurt me," he said glibly, flicking another switch. "I'm the Doctor." He sent her one of his winning grins. "I'm too cute to smack."

She smirked, taking a large step closer to him and eyeing him in what the Doctor felt was a decidedly evil fashion. "Don't push your luck."

"Rose, what are you doing?" he asked as she came closer still, the Doctor beginning to back away slowly.

She simply smiled in the same evil manner, stretching out a hand and making a grab for his jacket.

"Rose, no," the Doctor said as he tried to dart away once more, only to notice that she was following him, chasing him around the console, laughing as they dashed about. "Rose!"

She was still chuckling when he finally came to a stop, her mirth increasing as she ran straight into him.

"You were actually scared!" she gasped into his jacket, her fingers tight around the fabric.

And it really was entirely natural for him to lightly rest his hands on her hips.

"I was not!" he insisted, laughing as well, but attempting to appear as if he wasn't.

The Doctor wasn't too certain that it was working.

"You were!" she snickered. "Here you are, the 'Oncoming Storm,' and you're afraid of a smack from me."

"Have you ever been hit by your mother?" he demanded, feeling a phantom pain in his cheek. "A slap like that must be a genetic trait."

She tried to appear serious for a moment, nodding at him in sympathy before breaking down into laughter once more, and the Doctor found that, when he was looking at her smiling, radiant face, he had no choice but to laugh as well.

She was truly gorgeous, his Rose. Kind, courageous and loyal, smart and funny with a thirst for adventure and excitement.

He almost felt his fingers burning where they touched the fabric of her shirt, had to stop himself from bringing one of his hands up to caress her hair, to stroke her skin, to lean his head forward and taste that small, delicate place where her neck and shoulder met.

Did she have any idea how wonderful she was? How spectacular he found her each and every feature? Did she have any notion of how terrified he had been throughout this long day? How each threat of her loss had made his hearts stop and his mind race?

Because the Doctor suddenly realized that maybe Rose didn't understand how much he needed her.

"You know Rose," he began, staring into her laughing brown eyes. "I…"

And in that instant he remembered why he couldn't need her, couldn't care for her, couldn't love her.

Because in the end, everyone was lost. To death, time or circumstance, no one could stay with him forever.

Not even Rose.

"Yes, Doctor?" she asked, looking at him with concern and a flicker of hope in her eyes.

"I really think it's time we had a break, don't you?" he finished quickly, jumping away from her as if he had been burnt and running about the console once more.

"A break?" she asked with a frown. "You want to have a break? With me?"

Odd, that there still seemed to be that strange note of hope in her tone.

"Yeah, why?" he inquired, concerned. "You don't?"

"No, no, I'd love to," she said with a small laugh, coming closer and peering at him. "But you don't want to send me home?"

"And see your mother? Of course not." He shuddered at the mere thought before shaking it off.

He was not going to let Jackie Tyler ruin his attempt at a good time. No doubt there was some alien force that would manage that, and it was all quite well and good with the Doctor.

So long as it wasn't Jackie Tyler.

"Let's go somewhere fun," he insisted. "Less running and more enjoyment, more seeing history rather than shaping it and all that." He grinned as a thought came to him, twisting a dial and turning his face to Rose enthusiastically. "I know the perfect place!"

The TARDIS gave a lurch and they both grabbed onto the console, Rose returning his smile as they set off.

"Where?"

"Now that's a surprise, isn't it?" the Doctor reprimanded lightly, clapping his hands together and grinning, happy with his decision.

Rose really didn't need to know all of that _feeling_ nonsense anyway. And besides, there was no time! Too many things to explore, adventures to have.

All of those domestics could wait for another day.

"All right, coordinates set." He nodded towards Rose. "Let's go take a look at your burns and make sure you don't have any infections before fixing them up."

Rose smiled, still with that oddly happy air about her, as if by suggesting a break the Doctor had given her some great gift.

She could be an odd one, his Rose, every now and again.

Suddenly she was directly in front of him, and the Doctor wasn't quite sure how she had gotten there.

In the next instant she was leaning towards him, kissing his cheek lightly and wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you, Doctor."

The Doctor blinked, too startled, too confused and too busy trying not to think about Rose Tyler's lips against his skin and her body next to his to form an intelligent, witty reply.

Instead he asked, "For what?"

"Everything." She gave him another tight squeeze before pulling back, flashing another smile. "I'll meet you in the medical bay," Rose said as she turned away, walking towards the corridor and leaving the Doctor gaping after her.

And the Time Lord only had one thought, minutes later, as he finally gathered enough sense to follow her.

He definitely needed to put on a tie.


End file.
